Frontier Boys on the Coast Part 24

"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 rus.h.i.+ng 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 the boys, 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?"

CHAPTER XXVI

TWO La.s.sOES

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 and the 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 la.s.so 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 rea.s.sure 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 la.s.so to the tree," said Jim, "so you will feel perfectly safe, Jo."