Part 28 (1/2)
He dodged down just as the sailors fired another shot, then he sprang to the narrow pinnacle of the rock and bending slightly forward with bent knees and swinging hand, poised for the leap.
”The condemned fool is going to jump,” roared the Captain. ”Shoot him on the wing.”
But the sailors were not ready and the skipper ran between the rock and the cliff to be at hand to stamp the life out of Juarez when he should fall as he knew he would. Then he leaped, a dark object flying through s.p.a.ce, his hands caught the edge of the cliff, the roots of a small bush held him for a moment, then he slipped. Below him was certain death.
Two strong hands caught his arms, and he was drawn in safety to the cliff above. The Captain and the two sailors watched in open mouthed wonder, all they could see was the dim figure of Juarez crawl in safety over the top of the cliff, but they could not determine the means of his escape.
It struck a superst.i.tious chord in their natures and the skipper became moody and silent.
Juarez breathlessly followed the lanky figure of the shepherd through the darkness, for it was no other who had extended the rescuing hand.
Hardly a word was spoken, and they started off. After going a considerable distance they came to a slab hut built at the foot of a high range of hills that formed the backbone of the island.
Two shepherd dogs rushed forth and gave their master a boisterous welcome, and were soon good friends with Juarez. Everything in the hut was neat; with Indian rugs on the floor which gave a warm touch of color to the interior and one side of the hut was lined with books.
”What am I thinking of,” suddenly cried Juarez in dismay, ”to leave Tom in the hands of that crew? My head is wrong.” With that, he grew pale and slid unconscious to the floor. He had evidently not recovered from the blow that the Mexican had dealt him a few days before, and the strain he had been under brought on a relapse. The shepherd worked over him a long time before he finally brought him around.
Meanwhile what had become of Tom? He had not been quick enough to make his escape, and his fate was in the balance when the Skipper came up to him just after Juarez had disappeared over the cliff.
”You don't get away, I promise you that, lad,” growled the Captain.
Roughly seizing the boy by the shoulder he dragged him toward the cliff.
Then the two disappeared into the entrance of a cave, the Captain still holding in one hand his battered leather satchel.
The sailor who stood on guard at the entrance, saw just then the lights of a steamer that was just entering the channel and he rushed into the cave, called to the Captain, and in a few minutes that worthy appeared.
If he felt any alarm he showed none, but without any loss of time he a.s.sembled his crew, got his boat free of land and rowed silently out to sea. Whatever he had intended to do with Tom, evidently pa.s.sed from his mind, now awakened to the solution of some other problem.
CHAPTER x.x.x
IN THE STRAIT
As Juarez and Tom were under the kindly escort of Captain Broom and his sailors in the whale boat on their cruise to the mysterious island, Jo, Jim and the Spaniard had stopped at an old sycamore tree, where, as had been promised, the Indian messenger was awaiting their coming.
”What news, Yaquis?” asked the Spaniard, who knew the Indian well.
”I saw the boat by my own eyes,” he replied, ”heading for the Big Island,” pointing to the South. ”By her smoke she stopped in the Bow Harbor near the lower end.” So spoke the Indian, standing straight and tall. He was a picturesque sight with his coa.r.s.e, black hair cut square and long.
”The trail is getting warm,” exclaimed Jim eagerly. ”Where can we get a boat?”
”There is a small boat at the Harbor of San Pedro,” replied the Spaniard, ”that is the property of a friend of mine. I doubt not we can have the use of it.”
”It is now a little after six,” said Jim. ”How far is it to the Harbor?”
”A dozen miles,” replied the Indian.
”Is your horse too tired, Senor Sebastian, to make it by eight?” The Spaniard's eyes flashed.
”Senor, Don Fernando is never tired. Let us start.”