During the afternoon, everything had been made ready for the journey of the morrow. There was not a great deal to be done for the three rescuers would travel light. There would be no need of a pack animal, because the Senor had assured the boys that they would find hospitality on the way.
Jo however was in mourning because when he gave his black a trial gallop, it was discovered that he was badly lamed in the right knee. It would not have been safe for any of the pirate gang to come within range of Jo's wrath.
"The cursed brutes stove him up for fair," he declared grinding his teeth.
"I'm afraid it will take a month's rest before he will be fit," determined Jim.
"Then I'm out of it," exclaimed Jo sorrowfully.
"Not so, my friend," interrupted the Spaniard. "Take the bay. He is not as good a horse as yours, but he has great endurance. He is yours to use as long as you wish."
Jo thanked the Spaniard heartily for his kindness and generosity. Then he spoke in a low voice to his brother. "How about that money, Jim? Don't forget to pay the Spaniard for those goods we bought at the store." Jim spoke up.
"Senor, I wish to show you a little something of interest."
Then Jim got his heavy saddle, on which he had ridden so many hundred miles. And the Senor regarded it with interest, because of the carved leather workmanship which was of the finest and he was a connoisseur of such matters.
"How much would you give for it, Senor Sebastian," inquired Jim, "if it were put up for purchase?"
"It is a beautiful saddle. I would be willing to give a hundred dollars. It is worth it."
"That saddle is worth several thousand, Senor," replied Jim confidently.
"I do not understand," replied the Spaniard. "It is the personal value, I suppose."
"I will show you," said Jim.
Then he took from his hip pocket a heavy bone handled knife which he had bought at the store and pulled back the hoof cleaner, an instrument attached to the knife that was used to get a pebble or anything that had got into the horse's hoof.
With this he worked at the leather that covered the high and rather thick horn of the saddle. Finally he pried the top leather flap off. There was a heavy piece fitted into the top of the horn. With some difficulty Jim got this out disclosing a hollow, in which was concealed most of the jewels he had found in Mexico.
"Hold your hands, Jo. Tight now." And with the word he emptied the contents of the horn into Jo's palms. Diamonds, rubies, turquoises and some heavy gold pieces.
"That is what you might call a horn of plenty," said Jim jocosely.
"But!" cried the Spaniard in amazement, "where did you get these?"
"In Mexico," replied Jim. "This was what the Pirates were after. And they got all but this. Sometime I will tell you the story of its discovery. Now take this to reimburse you, Senor, for the money we spent at the store." And he held out the diamond.
"That is far too much. That stone is worth five hundred dollars at least," said the Spaniard. "These three rubies would be more exact and I will take them."
Jim, handing over the three stones selected, said,"Now, Senor, you shall take the diamond as a token of good will from my brother and myself."
"We insist upon it," chimed in Jo.
Finally the Spaniard accepted the gifts with many protestations of obligation and appreciation. Jo was about to urge him to accept a jewel for his sister, but Jim stopped him, knowing that the proud Spaniard would not hear to such a present.
The next morning they were up an hour before daylight and ate a hearty breakfast by the light of the candles. Veterans though they were, the boys felt a thrill go through their pulses as they thought of the expedition that lay before them. Outside they could hear the pawing of the impatient horses.
"To the success of our expedition and the rescue of our friends!" was the toast the Spaniard proposed as they rose from the table. The Frontier Boys drank it, but not in wine. They felt just a little foolish too, but such is the reward that often comes with doing what is right. But they were sturdy in their determination to stick to their principles.
If they had only known it, down in his heart the Spaniard respected them the more, even though it seemed odd to him.
Then they went out on the verandah, fully armed and ready to take their departure. Two oil lamps near the door and fastened to the wall, backed byshining reflectors sent a strong light across the verandah and into the darkness outside.
There stood the three horses, eager to be off, each one held by a Mexican groom. Caliente we already know, and the horse that Jo is to ride also. So let us take a glance at the third animal, Don Fernando. He evidently justified all the enthusiasm of his master, a truly splendid creature.
A dark chestnut, as large as Caliente and built on something the same lines. They were beautifully matched except in color. It was with a thrill of pleasure that Jim swung himself into the saddle. His mount was in fine fettle and ready for the long pull ahead.
They started from the home ranch with a thunder of hoofs in unison, the riders checking their horses to a slow gallop with a heavy hand. Together they pressed through the waning darkness. There was a wonderful exhilaration, as they leaped forward, the horses powerful and fresh.
Instead of following in the direction of the morning before, the Spaniard turned to the East until they came near the foot of the range. In a short time they came to a gate, which seemed to open mysteriously as they approached, but the motive power proved to be a small Mexican boy, whom the Senor had sent on ahead.
Now they were on a turf road with bushes on either side and down this they thundered, Caliente the gray, and Don Fernando the dark, matching stride for stride, with Jo well in the rear. For he found if he rode close up he was blinded and stung by sods and stones thrown back from the flying hoofs of the two horses in the front.
It was a bit lonely for Jo and he wished that one of the other boys was here to keep him company. As they rode, the bushes seemed to fly by as they do when you look from a railroad train and Jo was afraid lest his horse would be unable to keep the pace indefinitely. One thing in Jo's favor was that he was the lightest of the three and what is more to the purpose a very light rider.
So like the good horseman he was, he determined to save his horse all he could and make him last out. For eight miles or more they rode without a stop until they came to another gate. This the Spaniard unfastened and swung open without dismounting, then closed it after Jo.
The morning light was now distinct, although the fog was over the sky. Before them stretched a long level plain that broke into sand dunes near the sea. They could see the ocean lying dark in its monotonous level of color, to the Western horizon.
"We have just left the Sebastian ranch," called the Spaniard.
"It is immense," commented Jim. "May I ask how many acres it embraces?"
"It was immense in the old days," replied the Spaniard. "Before your people took possession of the land. It was held by no fences then. But your laws were not ours and we lost many square miles. Now there are fifty thousand acres under fence."
"Fifty thousand acres!" exclaimed Jo.
"Ah, but it was double that before the Americans came," replied the Spaniard. Then he glanced critically at Caliente. "Your horse looks as cool as though he had been standing in the stable. The pace does not affect his wind either. Splendid condition!"
"Caliente is as hard as nails," said Jim proudly. "But your horse has wonderful speed."
The chestnut seemed more on edge than the old warrior, Caliente, and tossed the foam from his bit, until his dark coat was speckled with it.
"He is high strung," said the Spaniard, "but I would back him against any horse flesh in California. We can let them out here for a half dozen miles."
"Let her go, Senor. I won't let you lose me."
At the word the Spaniard gave his chafing horse his head and away the chestnut sprang in the lead.It was slightly down grade for a mile, then there was a gulch twelve feet wide and of considerable depth. It was a good jump and to make it saved a little distance. Going at top speed the chestnut took the jump in fine style. His rider half turned in his saddle to watch Jim's effort. Caliente had faced worse leaps than that, he rose to it and swept over it as gracefully as a bird.
"Good fellow!" exclaimed Jim patting him affectionately on the neck.
When Jo saw the gulch ahead, he decided that discretion was the better part of valor as he did not know his mount well enough to risk the leap, so he galloped a few hundred feet below, where the gulch narrowed and then he took the jump nicely, and scampered after the other two riders who were quite a way ahead.
Jim purposely held Caliente in check, keeping a hundred yards in the rear of the Spaniard. Ahead a few miles, there was a perfect sea of yellow where the tall mustard covered the plain for a great distance. Into this they charged full tilt, the mustard reaching as high as their heads.
There was a swish of its blossoms in their faces as the powerful horses charged into it and in spite of their strength they began to tire after going some distance.
"Where is Jo?" inquired Jim suddenly after they had slowed down, "I don't see a sign of him." Andhe rose in his stirrups looking over the level lake of mustard.
"Hello, Jo," he yelled at the top of his voice. No answer came. Could he be drowned in this lake? There was not a motion to indicate his whereabouts, no waving of the yellow tops.
"It is very strange," said the Spaniard. "Did he cross the gully all right?"
"Yes, I saw him take the jump below us a ways." Then Jim raised his revolver above his head and fired.
"That ought to fetch him," he said. Then they listened intently. Suddenly about a quarter of a mile ahead of them they saw a sombrero rise like a gray mushroom above the yellow surface of the mustard, and Jo's voice came back to them.
They both gave their horses the rein, this time Jim did nothing to hold Caliente back, and with their powerful speed the two great horses tore forward, on even terms until in the last hundred yards Caliente forged ahead by half a length.[1]
"Hold on boys," yelled Jo in warning. There was Jo sitting quietly on his horse.
"That's how you beat us," exclaimed Jim, pointing to a cow trail running diagonally through the growth of mustard.
"Yes," laughed Jo, "I struck it further down after I jumped the gully. Otherwise you fellows would have lost me."
"Good work, Jo," said Jim. "Now we will have it easier going."
So in single file they galloped along the path, until they found themselves by noon, at the foot of a spur of mountains that extended from the main coast range to the ocean. Jim regarded this barrier in their way with a practised eye.
"This will slow us down, Senor," he said. "It looks like a pass below there, about two miles."
"Yes," said the Senor, "we can get through there all right, but it is pretty rough going."
They had to advance more slowly now, as the ground was broken into stony ravines, and there was a good deal of brush. In this kind of country Jo's horse more than held its own with the bigger animals, for he was as nimble as a goat.
"I hope we will find water, Senor," remarked Jim. "Our horses are pretty dry now."
"Yes," replied the Spaniard, "there is a good spring at the foot of the Pass."
They found it all right, in the entrance to the Pass, where there was a small green cove, surrounded with bushes, and on one side was a sheep herder's shanty. Jo investigated this immediatelyand found nothing in it but the charred remnants of a fire and a pair of discarded overalls.
Jim, who had himself been looking around, made a more important find.
"There has been somebody here recently," he announced. "Here are some tracks around the spring and not over twelve hours old."
"Yes, I have no doubt," said the Spaniard carelessly puffing at his cigarette. "This Pass is used occasionally by ranchmen and herders."
"There have been five or six horses here," said Jim, whose experiences had made him suspicious.
"There are no Indians," said Jo, "in this section, at least none who are on the warpath."
"Isupposeyou do have cattle rustlers, Senor?" inquired Jim.
"Yes, there is a band of outlaws," replied the Spaniard, "that raids from as far north as our ranch, south to San Diego, but we have seen no trace of them for many months."
"Then, Senor," remarked Jim, "it is about time that they paid you another visit."
"Ah, Senor Darlington," exclaimed the Spaniard. "We Castilians do not reason so. We say that there is no trouble today, why worry about tomorrow. Perhaps these bandits may have starved to death, or been hung, or the good Padres may have persuadedthem by the fear of Hell, to become quiet, sheep raising citizens. God knows."
"I fear that they are raising sheep in their old style," grinned Jo. The pun glanced off the Spaniard harmlessly.
"The theory that they may be hung, sounds plausible, Senor," admitted Jim. "But before we advance into the Pass, I will scout a little."
"If the Senor pleases," responded the Spaniard courteously.
"Do you chance to know of a small, hunchbacked Mexican who is more or less in this section of the country, Senor?" Jim suddenly inquired.
The Spaniard flushed with red anger and spit emphatically on the ground.
"You give him into my hands and I will reward you well," cried the Spaniard.
Jim made no immediate reply but gazed thoughtfully at the ground. He was considering the case. This was not the time to turn aside in a chase for even so desperate a criminal as the hunchbacked greaser. So he made no definite reply to the Spaniard.
After the horses were fed, and watered, and while Jo was looking after the coffee, Jim started off, to do a little scouting up the Pass. The first thing that he did was to slip off his heavy riding boots, whichthe stylish Jo had forced him to buy, and to put on his noiseless footed moccasins.
Then with his revolver loaded and ready to his hand, he went swiftly and silently up the trail that followed through thick brush, gradually working up the side of the mountain. It was no difficult task to follow the tracks of the horses. In a half hour's swift climbing he came to the top of a stony ridge, over which the trail curved, and dipped down the other side.
Jim now saw that the Pass was an irregular one with recurrent spurs, thrusting out from the mountains on either side, at quite frequent intervals. There were innumerable chances for ambuscades. Jim did not stand in the trail but to one side partially hidden in a thicket.
All the time his keen eyes were taking in the canyon below, not however admiring the scenery. In fact there was nothing particularly beautiful, or interesting in the view. In the Rockies and further South too he had seen canyons incomparable to the rather ordinary ones that he had seen in California.
Jim was watching for some slight movement of a living creature in the canyon. Finally he gave it up, and was about to turn away, then he gave a start, he saw one, two, three, men crouch across the trail, a quarter of a mile below, and disappear into thethick brush. He was almost certain that the first one was the hunchback.
That was all that Jim wanted to see. He noiselessly took the back trail, thinking over the best course to pursue. He would have liked nothing better under ordinary circumstances than to fight it out with the outlaws and to capture the hunchback. But their first object must be the rescue of Tom and Juarez.
Was there not some way by which they could get to the South without going through this bandit infested Pass?
"Well brother, what didst thou find?" inquired Jo, who was at times pleased to be dramatic.
"Very few specimens in the way of bandits," replied Jim.
"As I said, Senor," remarked the Spaniard, "they have become good citizens."
"Not yet, I am sure, because they are alive."
"That is a good one, Jim," remarked Jo, appreciatively, but the Spaniard was politely mystified. "Same as Indians."
"I found one thing out," said the diplomatic Jim, "and that is, that the Pass is a hard one on horses. Are you sure, Senor, that there is no easier way than this to get through?"
"Positive," briefly responded the Spaniard.
Jim who was seated on a rock digging his heel into the soft earth, looked up as a sudden idea struck him,—but without knocking him out.
"How far is it from here to the sea, Senor?" he asked.
"Not over five miles."
"Can we not get around that way?" Jim inquired eagerly.
"Why, yes," replied the Spaniard slowly, "if the tide is not coming in. In that case we should be drowned." Jim glanced hastily at his watch.
"We can try for it and make it, if we do not waste any time," he said. "The horses have had a good rest."
"Very well, Senor," said the Spaniard resignedly. He regarded Jim as an amiable hurricane whom it was not worth while battering to resist. Jim hastily swallowed his coffee and a hunk of bread and in five minutes the three musketeers were in the saddle again.
In spite of the rough going, they made good time for the five miles, spurred on by the constant anxiety lest they should not reach the beach before the tide began coming in. There were several gathered to see them off when they left the mouth of the Pass, but not to give them a send off.
A short explanation will prove this. It is not to be supposed that the hunchbacked Mexican and the bandits did not know that the three horsemen were coming over the plain of the mustard growth. Indeed, their scout, the Mexican dwarf, saw Jim, Jo and the Spaniard when they first landed in the entrance to the canyon.
He had gone back to report to the bandits their coming, and after Jim had returned, they had prepared the nicest trap imaginable near where Jim had been hiding. They had had numerous experiences in that line and were perfectly qualified experts. The spider and the fly wasnothing to the arrangements they had made to receive their supposably unsuspicious guests.
You can imagine the surprise and disgust of the bandits and their scout when they saw the three horsemen ride in an entirely different direction than that they had looked for. Talk about convulsions, you should have seen these desperadoes express their disappointment. It was terrific. Not a saint in the long calendar was left unscathed.
How Jim would have enjoyed the performance. But entirely oblivious to this, Jo, Jim and the Spaniard were riding rapidly towards the sea. Before an hour had passed, they had ridden between the rounded sand dunes and then out upon the hard, smooth sand of the beach.
"This is splendid going, Senor Sebastian," exclaimed Jim.
"It is all right," he replied, "if the sea does not get hungry too soon." But the sea appeared to be in a very pleasant mood and the white breakers had withdrawn as far out as it was possible to get. It was such a smooth smiling sea with the laugh of its little sparkling waves that it seemed that there could be no possible harm in it.
"I never saw a road that was better than this!"exclaimed Jo in delight. "It is perfectly springy and no dust or mud."
It deserved all of Jo's praises, this broad, firm California beach. The brown sand, that had been pounded down by the force of the great rollers some hours before, showed scarcely a sign of the shoes of the horses.
There was plenty of width and the three horses pressed on abreast, the powerful sweep of the gray Caliente and the chestnut Don Fernando, and the snappy, nervous leaps of the little bay that Jo was riding. With the bracing sea air and the exhilarating speed, the three musketeers were invigorated.
The Spaniard hummed a gay ballad, while at times Jim's heavy bass and Jo's lighter treble were joined in a rollicking American song. They laughed without reason, for the simple joy of being alive and on the move; but as pride sometimes goes before destruction, so happiness often goes before disaster.
It was a small matter too, but it made for trouble. The Spaniard's horse stepped between two small rocks that were close together and wrenched one of his hind shoes nearly off. Jim and Senor Sebastian hastily dismounted. Of course they carried with them the necessary thingsto fix the shoe on again, but even then it was a question of a number of minutes.
"You had better ride ahead, Jo," urged Jim. "Your horse is beginning to tire and we will overtake you, when we once get started."
"It is a good idea," joined in the Spaniard.
"All right," acquiesced Jo readily enough, and he gave his bay the rein, riding slowly down the beach.
Then the two began operations on Don Fernando's hind foot. Here they found their first real delay. At the point where the accident happened, the mountains came down quite close to the sea, so that they were crowded in much closer than they had been. The nearness of the water made the big chestnut restless and hard to handle.
The Spaniard had great difficulty in getting near enough to his horse to get hold of his hind foot. When he did succeed in doing this, and was just starting to peg the shoe on, an extra big wave slapped down upon the beach, though at a safe distance and caused the big chestnut to jump and hurl his master to a distance of a dozen feet.
"This won't do," cried Jim. "I'll take my horse around to the sea side of yours and close up. Perhaps that will give your animal confidence."
It worked like a charm, for though Caliente washigh-spirited, he was not flighty and he steadied his comrade so that the two workers were able to fasten the shoe.
"We have lost a good half hour," said Jim, looking at his watch with a grave face.
"Perhaps we shall have to turn back," remarked the Spaniard with gravity. "We may not escape the incoming tide if we go on."
"Don't you believe it," cried Jim, impetuously. "I've got business ahead and must go."
"Have it your way," said the Spaniard with a peculiar smile. He knew what dangers lay ahead with a rising tide and Jim did not or he probably would not have been so insistent.
"I see no sign of Jo," remarked Jim, as they swung into the saddles.
"Ah, we will not catch him. He is safe," replied the Spaniard.
Then with tremendous speed, they swept down the beach, the splendid horses responding to the crisis. It was their fleetness against the steadily rising rush of the inexorable sea. They actually gained ten minutes on the first two miles and a half. Then Jim saw ahead the dark form of a headland thrusting out towards the sea.
Already the rush of a long wave would send thewater lapping around their horses' feet. Jim recognized the danger. They must get around that promontory or give up beaten. Then he gave Caliente a touch with a spur, the first that day. With a snort, the spirited animal sprang forward faster than before and at his shoulder was the chestnut with flaming nostril.
None too soon had they reached the headland, for the recurrent waves were beginning to surge against it, with full force and gnawing foam. In the fierce fury of their charge, they sent their horses against the sea. It was at the long withdrawal that made bare the scattered black rocks, that they rounded the headland.
But too soon a great thundering wave with the force of the Pacific behind it came roaring in and swelled to the horses' throats, almost submerging the riders. But the animals held against its withdrawing power and before the ocean could return to the attack, they had got beyond the headland to a safe place on the beach.
The horses were trembling and quivering with their exertions and with the fear of the sea which is the most terrible and paralyzing of all fears. Jim drew a long breath of relief and looked ahead to see if there was any sign of Jo.Then to his consternation he saw that the beach curved inland and at the further end of the curve was another frowning headland thrusting itself out somewhat further than the one they had but just rounded.
Let us now return to the Sea Eagle, and find out what is happening there.
You recollect that Juarez had just discovered two islands lying on the South-eastern horizon, the one, long and low, the other comparatively short and dumpy. He had been conversing with the tall shepherd of the island, who seemed to take an interest in Juarez. But because of his isolated life during a greater part of the year, he would have taken an interest in a stone idol, if he had chanced to discover one.
"Which of these islands are we making for?" inquired Juarez.
"The one where we land," replied the sheep farmer oracularly. "I might ask the Cap'n, only I never pester him with questions. You aren't a Yankee, are you?"
"No," replied Juarez, "I'm not. My folks live in Western Kansas."
"I'm glad to hear it, son. But what are you doing here?" he asked.
"You aren't a Yankee, are you?" inquired Juarez, quizzically. The man laughed softly to himself.
"You've got me there, lad," he said. "It looks to me," he continued, "that the old man is going to steer for the further island."
"Then you will have to swim for your home," remarked Juarez.
"I can wade," he replied whimsically, looking down at his long legs.
"You are a humorist," said Juarez.
"No, you can put me down for a philosopher, that is to say, a man who has much time to think and nothing to do."
"I should like to be one," said Juarez. "Suppose you holy-stone these decks while I try it."
"No, my friend," replied the shepherd, "I am too much of a philosopher to make any such swap."
"Is Captain Broom one?" asked Juarez.
"Well, he is a sort of a philosopher till he gets mad, then he becomes a living active volcano, belching out a lava of hot language and scorching things generally. I guess that I had better be moving along. I see that he is eyeing me from the Bridge, and he is likely to get active any moment if I keep you from working." With this the lanky shepherd strolledforward and seating himself upon the top of the boys' sleeping place in the bow, smoked his pipe in meditative comfort.
His estimate in regard to the destination of the Sea Eagle proved to be correct. For in the early afternoon the ship passed under the lee of the long island and was steaming up the channel between it and the mainland, which was distant some thirty-five miles.
The fog had cleared by noon, and there was that complete transition to brilliant, sunny weather. There was a sort of a white haze along the distant coast and beyond far inland, rose the faint summits of the high mountains.
Fortunately Juarez and Tom had a chance to observe their new surroundings for they had been set to work sewing on a small sail that was to be used in one of the boats. They sat upon the top of one of the hatches, under the watchful eyes of old Pete and the philosophic gaze of the shepherd. Sewing was one of the accomplishments of the Frontier Boys. They had been obliged to learn.
"What is that particular bronze looking weed, floating in these waters?" asked Tom. It was as Tom phrased it, bronze and a most beautiful color.
It was indeed a giant among weeds; just such as the garden of the ocean would grow. The stemswere fifty to eighty feet long, with peculiar colored leaves eight to ten inches in length, growing on little boughs from the parent stem. The whole structure was held up by small bronze buoys, of a round shape.
"Well as ye seem likely boys and want to learn, I'll tell you about this plant," said the shepherd. "The scientific fellows call it Algae. When the world was first made this algae covered the whole surface of the ocean."
"How did you learn this?" asked Juarez.
"You know that the Captain is quite a collector, and in his travels has gotten together among many other things some interesting books. He gives them to me when convenient." The face of the lanky shepherd was perfectly grave when he spoke of Captain Broom as a collector.
"What makes the water so clear around here?" asked Juarez. "I never saw anything like it."
"Well, you see," replied their mentor, "this island is placed peculiarly, I mean this side of it. You see how quiet the water is?"
"It is certainly smooth and blue," said Juarez. "More like a lake than the ocean."
"That's only true of this side," resumed the shepherd, "the other is rough enough, but you see the prevailing winds are from the Northwest and this shore is never disturbed. So on the beachesyou will find not sand, but smooth round pebbles, because there is no action of the water, no breakers or waves to grind them into sand."
About four o'clock the Sea Eagle came into a perfectly beautiful little harbor, at the South-eastern end of the island. There was a small level plot back from the beach and on all sides rose steep hills and back of them the mountains. It was the most picturesque scene the boys had ever beheld in all their travels.
What would they not have given to have been free to roam that island, hunting inland, or fishing or bathing along those quiet, enchanted shores. But this was no pleasure excursion. Far from it. Captain Broom had his own ideas, and he did not intend to make a landing at all.
"Get the whale boat ready, lads!" he ordered. "And put her over, we've got no time to lose."
They lost no time either, under Captain Broom's commanding eye.
What was necessary for the cruise was already in the boat. Two casks of water, several guns, and a lot of provisions. Then the boat was hove overboard into the quiet bay. The captain was ready with a much battered satchel in his hand. Not for one second did he entrust it to any one else.
"Now over with you, you two lads," he commanded and Juarez and Tom, with a sinking of the heart, got into the boat. This was the last leg of their mysterious journey, and it boded them no good they felt sure of that. The mate they noticed stayed aboard in charge of the ship.
They were put in the stern where old Pete had the steering oar. Near them sat the shepherd on one of the casks of water, his long legs getting uncertain accommodation. The captain had his position in the bow and two powerful sailors were at the oars, one on either side. They did not sit down, but stood up to their work.
Without any loss of time the boat got under way proceeding seaward from the shelter of the beautiful little harbor. In spite of their depression, the two boys could not help being interested in the absolutely clear water in which they could look down for eighty feet.
They could see the straight slender columns of the Algae rising to the surface, starting from where they were rooted in the bottom of the bay and swaying to the slow pulsation of the tide. These strange plants of this marine garden were marvels indeed. Between their stalks and among the encrusted rocks swam in absolute unconsciousness of being watched, many beautiful, and strange fishes.
Some were small of golden hue, with little spotsof a marvelous blue (poetry) that flashed like keen electric dew, (that will do). Others were like gold fishes, a foot in length and of corresponding breadth. There were long mackerel, and innumerable minnows, and over the rocks a peculiar little fish crawled or rather walked on thin rat-like feet.
Before they had time to observe further the boat had got out of the harbor where the water sunk away to blue unfathomed depth. When clear of the harbor, they turned to the South, passing near a cove with a symmetrical pebbly beach, built up for five feet, above the level of the water. The ocean was perfectly smooth, with not a ripple upon its surface. They were evidently making to round the Southern extremity of the Island.
Ahead of them was a rock rising fifty or sixty feet out of the water. It was evident that the rock was inhabited for there could be seen dark forms moving around upon it. Nothing had been said since they started, for the Captain was not in a talkative mood. Jeems Howell, the shepherd, had sat silently smoking his pipe in philosophic contentment.
"What are those things on that rock?" inquired Tom, his curiosity getting the best of his reserve.
"Two yankees in this boat," commented the shepherd. "Those are seals, son. Didn't you ever see any before?"
"No!" admitted Tom.
"You didn't know that seals, next to humans, are the smartest animals, in the world."
"Is that so?" inquired Juarez. "They certainly are sleek."
"They have got the most brain room, that's a fact."
The boys regarded the seals with peculiar interest as the boat passed near the rock. They were moving about awkwardly by means of their flippers, moving their sinuous necks this way and that and regarding the strange boat with their soft brown eyes. Then they dived headlong into the sea, swimming about with a peculiar grace.
"Queer animals," remarked Tom, "belong half to the sea and half to the land."
"Something like sailors," remarked the shepherd.
"What's the Captain going to do with us?" asked Juarez in a low voice. The shepherd's face took on a solemn expression, but before he could reply the Captain's voice roared.
"None of that, you'll find out soon enough. You can talk about the flory and fauny, with long shanks, but don't let me hear anything else out of you," such was the Captain's ultimatum.
But soon matters grew so interesting that they lost all inclination for talking. When they got near the Southern end of the island they began to notice white caps to the Southward, dotting the darkness of the sea.
"You lads will have to hold tight now in a few minutes," remarked Howell. "Do you get seasick?"
"No," replied the boys.
"Well, you will have a chance soon, and if it don't fetch you, nothing will."
So far they had been rowing under the sheltering lee of the island whose huge rocky bulk had shouldered off the charge of the wind-driven seas. Now before they had fairly rounded the island the character of the water began to change. The boat began to toss on the great rollers. Then as they cleared the land for good and were in the channel, a fresh gust of wind struck them, drenching the occupants of the boat with spray.
The Captain stood up in the bow of the boat and steadying himself took in the conditions of the sea and wind. There was nothing in his grim weatherbeaten face to show what he felt. The men at the oars now made hard work of it against the headwind and the running sea.
They would climb up a steep wave and then with a sickening slide, go down into the hollow, then with a lusty pull the sailors would bring the heavy boat over the toppling crest of wave to find another rushing to meet them. No rest, this was what made it such heart breaking work.
The early fog had come, covering the sea with gloom, and the waves did not go down perceptibly. At times, they shipped a good deal of water and Tom and Juarez were kept busy bailing out. Afteran hour's hard struggle the sailors were about all in and seemed hardly able to hold their own against the sea and wind. The Captain was quick to notice this.
"Can you row, lad?" he inquired of Juarez. Now the latter's experience had been confined to his work going down the Grand Canyon of Colorado, on the raft-boat that the Frontier Boys had built.
Even the old ocean itself could not show anything worse than some of the rapids that the boys had run. As for rocks, nothing could beat the canyon for them.
"I'll try, sir," he replied, "I've never rowed on the ocean."
"Humph!" grunted the Captain, "take the starboard. And you, you lazy long shanks, you take the other oar."
"All right, sir," replied cheerfully, the one addressed.
"Get out of here, Pete," he cried, giving that worthy a lift with his foot that landed him on top of Tom, "I'll do the steering. You boys will only have to pull, that's all. I'll keep her headed up right."
Fortunately Juarez was in fine condition, or he could never have stood the gruelling work ahead. He weighed one hundred and sixty pounds and there was not an ounce of fat on him. Likewise he hadhad a sound night's sleep and three square meals so that he was fortified for what was ahead.
Juarez buckled to the task with all his strength, and he was glad of the chance to get his blood in circulation for he was chilled to the bone by the flying spray, and then too, anything was better than thinking of the fate ahead. He was surprised to find out that the shepherd who appeared rather frail in physique was able to keep up the pace.
But he had that sinewy length of muscles that counts for more than mere bunchy thickness. Juarez was crafty enough not to spend all of his strength in the first fifteen minutes of work. He liked this, fighting the sea and standing on his feet he was able to put the whole leverage of his body into the stroke.
The change in speed was noticeable right away, and the boat began to pull ahead steadily. The two sailors who had been laid off from exhaustion, had watched Juarez with a sneering grin as he took the oar. They were sure that the first wave that came along would wrench the oar out of his hand. Great was their surprise when they saw him buckle to the oar, rising and pulling at the right time to meet the toppling, rustling seas.
"That little shrimp will last about ten minutes," said one of them to his mate.
"Sure, Bill," replied the other.
Juarez choked back a hot reply, for he knew that it would not be good for him to say anything to them. They were in the majority and would get him if he did, besides making it bad for Tom. The ten minutes passed and Juarez was just beginning to warm to his work. This took the wind out of their sails completely.
The powerful hand of the Skipper at the steering oar was a great help, for now all that the two men at the oars had to do was to pull and not to worry about keeping her headed right. Juarez kept steadily at it for an hour and then darkness began to fall over the channel but not until the island that they were approaching had begun to loom up, dead ahead.
They were now getting in the lee of the strange island and the sea was moderating perceptibly. At this juncture the two sailors who had become thoroughly rested took the oars from Juarez and his co-worker and pulled steadily through the gathering gloom. In a short time the bulk of the island loomed above them in the darkness.
Not a word was said, only the swish of the sea was heard and the groaning of the oars in the locks. Tom and Juarez were deeply depressed and gloomy. They felt exactly as though they were being takento prison and could sympathize with sailors who had been marooned on lonely and desolate islands.
"Easy now, lads," called the Captain, as he brought the boat's head squarely around towards the shore.
"Two strokes," he yelled, "and let her run."
With great force they pulled the oars in succession, then they shipped them in a hurry. Juarez could see the dashing of foam on either side of the boat where the waves smote the rocks. There was a roar in his ears as the boat rushed toward seeming sure destruction. It was going with great speed from the impetus of the sailors' strokes.
The Captain was standing taut at the steering oars, his eyes piercing the darkness ahead, then the foam of the breakers dashed in their faces, there was a quick sliding past of dark rocks and before they could draw breath again the boat was in quiet water, under some black cliffs. At last they had reached the mysterious goal of their mysterious journey.
We must now go back in our narrative to where we left Jim Darlington and the Spaniard, Senor Sebastian, in a position of extreme peril, between the cliffs and the deep sea, with the white-fanged tide coming in like a devouring monster eager for its prey.
"Is there a chance, Senor?" cried Jim as soon as his horse gained his footing.
"It is the fatal day, I fear," replied the Spaniard with resigned hopelessness. "The sea is hungry."
"As for that, so am I," declared Jim coolly. "So let us try to get around the headland and after that, supper."
"As you please," acquiesced the Spaniard quietly.
Then Jim turned Caliente's head and with a quick touch of the spur sent him full stride along the curving beach, followed closely by the Spaniard. Already the heavy waves were licking farup the slant of the sand. Even the veteran Caliente seemed nervous at its approach, while Don Fernando would jump and shy as the hissing water crept around his feet.
In about two minutes the two horsemen reached the base of the rocky headland that barred their way. It was a desperate moment, there was but one thing to do and that was to take the chance.
"Better be drowned quick, Caliente, old boy," cried Jim, "than slowly, but we'll beat you yet," and he shook his clenched fist at the ocean, and whirled his horse to meet a wave that struck Caliente breast high. So for a moment, the two, boy and horse, stood facing their powerful enemy, The Sea, that came with the recurring charge, its evenly separated files robed in blue with white crests. Thus they stood getting a full free breath before they leaped into the ranks of the foe.
Jim's strained, keen gaze took in every detail of the situation, noting the position of the rocks that a receding wave left bare, so that he might find a clear path or trail in his dash for life. Nor did his gaze flinch as he saw the advancing wave break against the front of the cliff.
"Now, Caliente," yelled Jim, with a sense of fierce determination and exultation that communicated itself to his horse, and lifting his feet free from the stirrups so that he would not be entangled, if Caliente should fall, he headed him seaward, galloping fast down the beach upon the heels of the withdrawing wave.
Meeting a smaller inrush of water and dashing through its foaming crest, his gallant horse swam until he got a foothold upon the rocks at the base of the cliff. Now was the crucial moment. With absolute recklessness, Jim urged his powerful horse over the foam-covered rocks, striving to get around the prow of the headland before the charge of the next wave. Not one look did Jim give seaward, all his energies were bent upon using every precious second, and Caliente was filled with his rider's indomitable spirit.
Then above them towered the fatal wave, and with a confused roar, it broke over them in sweltering foam and they were swept towards the black front of the cliff. Then came the impact against the rock and the next moment, stunned and bruised, Jim holding to the pommel of the saddle, with a death-grip, was carried out to sea with Caliente in the grasp of the retreating wave.
It was all over, as like pieces of drift, horse and rider were swept away, but fortune does sometime favor the brave and, being caught in apowerful current, Caliente was carried South of the headland and his progress towards the sea was stayed by a rock that rose high, an outer-guard of the headland. So then the next great wave bore them toward the beach, and once Caliente got his feet upon the sandy bottom he braced himself against the fierce pull of the retreating sea, striving to drag him back again.
Though almost unconscious, Jim clung to the saddle with his body half-drooping over the pommel. Then Caliente plunged blindly forward until he stood with head bent down and nose almost touching the sand, his great sides heaving, but safe at last.
In the distance, a horseman could be seen coming at full gallop along the straight line of the beach. It was Jo, who finally had become frightened by the non-appearance of his two comrades and had turned back. His fright had been increased by seeing a horse and rider coming apparently out of the sea.
When he came up, he found his brother Jim sitting on the sand still half dazed but slowly coming to himself.
"Where's the Senor, Jim?" cried Jo. This question served to bring Jim completely to himself. He got up, looking pale, with one side ofhis face bruised to a real blackness, and the flesh of his left hand badly torn, where it had struck the cliff, but he was not thinking of these matters.
"Why, Jo, the Senor came after me. Where is he?" Then it came over him all at once, that his companion was even now caught between the jaws of the black cliff.
"We must get to him, Jo," he cried.
"But how did you ever get around that cliff?" asked Jo.
Already it was an awesome sight as the waves crashed in foam against its front and rushed shoreward along its black sides. It seemed impossible that only fifteen minutes before Jim had actually come around that foaming headland.
In reply to Jo's question, Jim threw his arms around Caliente's neck with warm affection.
"This is the old fellow that pulled me through," he cried. "But we must go to the help of our Spanish friend."
"How can we?" inquired Jo. "We can't get around the headland unless we become fishes."
Jim considered the problem carefully. One thing he was determined on and that was not to leave the Spaniard who had been so hospitable and helpful to them.
"No, we can't go around by the headland," hedetermined, "but we might be able to find a way over the rocks and down on the other side."
"All right, I'm ready."
"Let's find a place for Caliente first," advised his owner. Back a short distance from the beach there were some trees on a lower spur of the mountain. Here Jim brought Caliente and took off the saddle and bridle.
"Now make yourself comfortable," said Jim.
Caliente, in seeming recognition of what was said, took immediate advantage of the invitation and rolled heartily in a dry and dusty spot.
"Get your lasso, Jo," urged Jim, "and we will start."
So together they made for the steep rock and soon reached the base of it, and now began a hard climb, but no more difficult than they had encountered before in their travels.
"Do you recollect, Jim," inquired Jo, "that day you got stalled in our first canyon in Colorado, when you tried to imitate an eagle and fly up a precipitous cliff and we had to get you down?"
"Oh, yes, I remember," replied Jim, "and how I scared you and Tom by pretending that an Injun was after me, when I went down to the creek for water."
"Poor Tom," said Jo sadly, "I wonder when we will see him again."
"In a couple of days," stoutly declared the optimistic Jim.
They were now going up the face of the cliff, the lariats over their shoulders, and searching with careful feet for a foothold, while their hands clutched some piece of projecting rock.
"Lucky this rock isn't rotten," cried Jo, "or we would find ourselves stuck headfirst in the sand below."
"Like an ostrich," said Jim. "We couldn't do much in a place like this without our moccasins, that's certain."
The moccasins did make them nimble as goats, and they not only made possible a secure hold, but they protected as well the feet. At first they were not in any grave danger of a fall because the drifted sand at the bottom of the cliff would have made a soft landing. But after a while they were forced to work their way out over the rushing water, then if they had slipped and fallen it would have been all up with them.
It seemed as if the sea, furious at having lost Jim a short while ago, was making fierce efforts to get at them now. The great waves foamed against the cliff and the spray dashed over theboys, making the surface of the rock treacherous and slippery.
"I can't bear to look down," said Jo. "It makes me dizzy."
"Look up, then," Jim called back.
"That's almost as bad," replied Jo.
"Keep 'em shut then," was Jim's command.
Finally they came to a place that stopped Jo entirely. Jim was able to get over it, because of his superior height and reach, and he attained a point of safety above Jo.
"What am I going to do now?" cried Jo. "I can't go any higher and it is impossible for me to go back."
"You wait," urged Jim, "till I get a secure foothold above here."
"Oh, I'll wait," said Jo grimly, "you don't observe any anxiety on my part to move, do you?"
Finally Jim reached a broad ledge, that gave him an excellent foothold, and he got his lariat ready and dangled the loop under Jo's nose.
"What are you going to hang me for?" inquired Jo.
"For a horse thief, I reckon," replied Jim, "that bay don't belong to you does it, Mister?"
"Meaning this ocean bay?" queried Jo.
"I certainly will hang you for that," retorted Jim, "Now get the loop under your armpits."
"All ready," cried Jo.
Then Jim, bracing himself, kept a taut line on his brother, and with this help he was able quite easily to get over the slippery, bare belt of rock, and in a few moments was safe with Jim on the ledge.
"It won't take us long now," said Jo, "to get to the other side."
"Let's give him a yell," suggested Jim, "to let him know that we are coming."
Then Jim put his hands to his lips and cried:
"Senor, ahoy." They listened breathlessly and in a few moments came a faint reply. This put renewed energy into the boys and as the way was now easier, they leaped ahead, agile as goats, and had soon reached the top of the cliff. They looked eagerly down.
There was the deep short semi-circle of the little bay with the waves heaving in against the cliffs and at the point midway between the two head-lands, where the beach was highest, they saw the Spaniard on Don Fernando. Already the encroaching waves were gnawing at them.
It was only a question of minutes now, and horse and rider would be carried out to sea. The Spaniard sat like a statute. It was seemingly possible for him to have made his escape up the cliffs, which were not overly precipitous, like those Jim and Jo had just scaled, but he was a fatalist and believed that his day had come. Perhaps he did not want to abandon his horse, in which his pride was centered.
"Cheer up, Senor, we'll be there," yelled Jim.
Then followed by Jo, he sprang forward, leaping from rock to rock, and from jutting point to opportune foothold. It was dangerous and daring work, but the life of their friend was at stake andthe boys were not the kind to consider their own safety at such a time.
It was only their sure-footedness and varied experience in climbing that saved them from broken limbs or possible death. In a remarkably short time, they stood upon a ledge above the Spaniard.
"Here, Senor," yelled Jim, "catch the rope."
He did as ordered but called up, "Is there no way to save my horse?"
Jim considered a moment, then shouted: "All right, yes, we will save your horse, too. Tie the ends of the lasso to the iron rings at the ends of the front cinch." This was a broad, strong band, which would furnish a good purchase, when Jim tossed down the lariat. The Spaniard caught it and made it fast as ordered.
"Now, fasten this under your arms," ordered Jim, as he cast down the second lariat, which belonged to Jo. They then drew up the Spaniard to safety and he appeared to be pleased in a quiet way but not at all enthusiastic.
"I am your eternal debtor, Senors," he said with a courteous bow.
"How was it you did not follow me, Senor?" questioned Jim, "when I sailed around the headland?"
"Don Fernando balked," replied the Senor. "I thought, too, that you had been drowned."
"Came near it," replied Jim. "I would, too, if it had not been for Caliente."
"But my poor Fernando, he will be drowned," cried the Spaniard, now much more excited about the safety of his steed than he had been for his own. It did look rather bad for the big chestnut, as a large wave swelling in, almost took him off his feet. He began to neigh wildly.
"Don't worry, Don, old boy," cried Jim to the frightened horse. "If you will help yourself." There was something in his voice that seemed to reassure the animal.
"Now, Jo, we will let you down by the lariat and get the bridle reins over his head and help him get a foothold on that ledge below us. He will be safe enough there, even if he does get somewhat damp."
"Let me go. It is my risk for my horse," urged the Spaniard.
"It is no risk, Senor," replied Jim. "You are heavier than my brother and stronger and can do more good on this ledge with me."
"The commands of the General!" said the Spaniard with a low bow. "I see your plan is good."
"We will tie this end of the lasso to the tree," said Jim, "so you will feel perfectly safe, Jo."
The tree referred to was a sturdy, gnarled cedar, growing on the ledge. Then Jim swung his brother off and with every confidence in the strength of the lariat to hold, Jo made his way quickly and safely down, while if he had been without the rope he would have doubtless fallen into the water below.
A wave surged in, submerging him, and then started triumphantly to carry him out to sea, but when the lariat pulled taut Jo struggled safely back on the rock, while the wave went grumbling back.
"Catch the bridle now, Jo," urged Jim. "Don't waste any more time swimming."
Thus adjured, Jo grabbed the bridle reins and pulled them over Don Fernando's head, and braced himself on the rock above. All was ready now, and the two above held the loop of the lasso that had been tied at the cinch, with both hands, and they pulled together. Again a big wave swelled in towards the cliff, which gave the frightened horse a big boost.
Then, with Jim and the Spaniard pulling mightily from the ledge above, and Jo giving the big chestnut a purchase by a steady pull upon hisbridle, the horse scrambled with a mighty clatter and all his frightened energy up the sloping rock. The lariat and Jo's work helped a whole lot. Without the three, he would never have made it.
Before the next wave swept in, Don Fernando stood, trembling and dripping, but safe, upon the lower ledge. He seemed above the danger point now, though an unusually big wave welled up around the horse's fetlocks and the spray was continually dashing upwards.
"He is all right now," cried Jim, "better come up, Jo, where it is dryer."
"Haul in then," replied Jo, and then he was landed safely on the ledge.
"Caught a speckled trout," exclaimed Jim in happy humor again.
"Referring to my freckles, I suppose," grinned Jo. "If I'm a fish, I reckon Don Fernando is a whale."
"Do you suppose he is safe?" inquired the Spaniard anxiously.
"Who, Jo?"
"Ah, no," said the Spaniard smilingly. "I mean the Don. The water seems to be rising."
"You may rest assured that he is safe," replied Jim. "It is the turn of the tide now, and it is onlya westerly wind that makes it appear higher. All we will have to do now is to wait."
"It is a great pity, this delay," said the Spaniard warmly. "You are anxious to be on to the rescue of your brother and his friend. Anyway, I hope you will succeed as well in their case as you did in mine."
"In another hour we will be able to start," said Jim, "the tide will then commence to run out."
"Where shall we stop tonight?" inquired Jo.
"Camp in the open as usual," replied Jim.
"I hope we will get up above the sea so high that it won't come within a mile of us," said Jo, fervently.
"As to a place to stop, I will see to that," said the Spaniard. "Do not give yourselves any uneasiness on that score."
"It's getting kind of chilly roosting up here," remarked Jo, plaintively, "especially as the fog is coming in."
"I'll warm you," said Jim. "Put up your Dukes."
"You'll take the counts if I put up my Dukes," said Jo, who was an inveterate punnist.
"Shut up," yelled Jim, giving his brother a hearty chug in the chest. Then they went at it hammer and tongs, giving and receiving goodhard blows, and after ten minutes of whaling at each other, both were plenty warm. The Spaniard looked on in mild wonder.
"You Americans love the hard exercise," he said. "I should think you would have great pleasure in resting awhile."
"I got the best of the bout," declared Jo. "See how black and blue your face is on this side."
"You didn't do that," protested Jim. "That was a wallop that old Neptune handed me when he bumped my head against yonder cliff."
"Neptune! Yonder cliff!" jeered Jo. "You ought to be a story writer and use fine words."
"Me a story writer!" growled Jim. "Iain'tgot so low as that, not so long as I have got two hands to steal chickens with."