Part 21 (1/2)

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 ba.s.s 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 things to 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 was high-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 the water 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.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE ENCHANTED ISLE

Let us now return to the Sea Eagle, and find out what is happening there.