Part 25 (1/2)

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.