Frontier Boys on the Coast Part 25

The tree referred to was a st.u.r.dy, 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 la.s.so 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 his bridle, 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 das.h.i.+ng 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 a.s.sured that he is safe," replied Jim. "It is the turn of the tide now, and it is only a 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 good hard 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 b.u.mped 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. "I ain't got so low as that, not so long as I have got two hands to steal chickens with."

CHAPTER XXVII

ANOTHER FRIEND

"Do you not think, Senor Darlington, that it is now safe to start?"

inquired the Spaniard, who was fearful of bloodshed, not quite understanding the boys.

"Certainly," responded Jim, "we will get Don Fernando down from his perch and proceed."

This proved to be an easier task than getting him up. His master lowered by the rope to his side, one scrambling leap and the horse was on the firm wet sand of the beach, almost knocking his master over in his eagerness to be on safe footing again. Don Sebastian now showed the gay side of his nature, as he vaulted into the saddle.

He swung his hat wildly, the blood mounting to his face, and the horse seemed to feel the sting and excitement of his master's mood, as he pranced, danced and caracoled upon the sand and ended up by bowing in unison with his master to the two American lads, who were looking on with interest and amus.e.m.e.nt.

Then the party made their way quickly along the curve of the beach and went around the fateful headland with perfect safety, while quite a distance out among the hidden rocks snarled the defeated ocean. Then Caliente heard them coming and he quickly raised his head, neighing in welcome to Jim and his comrade, Don Fernando.

Jim gave him a vigorous hug for more than ever he was fond of his faithful horse. In a few minutes he had him saddled and away the three hors.e.m.e.n thudded in a swift gallop down the beach. The horses fairly flew, the wind of their speed tossing their manes back. It was cool beneath the fog laden sky and the refres.h.i.+ng sea air seemed to give the horses tireless endurance.

Soon three miles had spun backwards under their hoofs and the boys were filled with the joyous excitement of the run. It seemed now that every stride of the horses was bringing them nearer to the hoped-for rescue of Tom and Juarez. And this was an incentive to their energy.

"Here, friends, is where we branch off from the beach," cried the Spaniard.

Then he turned his horse to the left and headed straight for a wooded spur that extended from the range to the sh.o.r.e. In a short time the three came to a well-traveled trail and were soon riding through the semi-dusk of the woods. For two miles they went up a steady grade.

Then they rounded the summit of the wooded ridge and saw stretching far below them in the indistinct dusk, a wide plain bounded on the West by the blue darkness of the level sea with its rim of yellow sand.

"We will soon be at the home of my friend, Senor Valdez," said the Spaniard, "where we will spend the night."

"I'm a lovely looking object to present itself in a civilized home,"

protested Jim, "I look like a tough who has been in a bar-room rush."

"You are my brave friend," said Senor Sebastian, quietly, "and will be welcome."

Jim blushed, at least one side of his face did, the other was already too deeply colored to show any emotion, and he grinned sheepishly.

Before he had time to reply they swept into an open driveway, carefully sanded, and drew rein in front of a long, low white adobe house, that from its mountain terrace looked over Plain and Sea.