A WONDERFUL LEAP
Now without hesitation we must take up the fortunes or rather
misfortunes of Tom and Juarez as they landed in the darkness upon the
mysterious island, for our narrative presses to its conclusion. Never
did they feel more hopeless than on this occasion, when they were going
to a dubious and uncertain fate.
"You boys come with me," called the Captain gruffly.
"How about me, Cap'n?" asked Jeems Howell, the lanky shepherd.
"What's your business?" inquired Captain Broom briefly.
"Looking after the sheeps."
"Then attend to it," said the Captain grimly.
"Certainly, Cap'n," replied the shepherd, who was incapable of taking
offense.
"You come, Jake," called the Captain, to one of the sailors, "and be
quick about it, we haven't much time." Tom shivered, for in the gloom
and tired as he was he felt that his time too was short.
Then with the Captain in the lead, carrying a lantern, which was muffled
in his great coat, they started, the sailor bringing up the rear.
"Look out sharp, that these lads don't spring something on you, Jake.
They are a bad lot."
"Aye, aye, sir," replied the sailor, "they'll have to be quick to get
the jump on me, sir."
"It's the Injun one's the worst. Don't let him scalp you," warned the
Captain jocosely.
"I'm no Indian," said Juarez, hoarsely and utterly reckless of his fate,
"I'm an American, and was proud of it, till I found you were one, you
cursed yankee barnacle."
"Ho, ho, lad!" roared the Captain, "you won't talk so tall in a few
minutes. Nothing like a slow fire for stewing the nonsense out of a
fresh kid."
"How far is this cave of yours, you are taking us to, old salt horse?"
said Juarez insolently, and utterly unwise.
This was too much for Captain Broom, and with an imprecation he turned
to strike Juarez. This was what Juarez was looking for and as the
furious Skipper whirled facing him, Juarez dodged his huge fist, and
sent a fierce hook to the Captain's jaw. There was anger, desperation
and strength behind that blow and the Captain fell, striking his head on
a rock. That time the Frontier Boys scored.
"Follow me, Tom," yelled Juarez, and he sprang away through the
darkness. It seemed like a hopeless undertaking to make an escape with
the sea on one side and the cliffs on the other, and a desperate enemy
near at hand. But Juarez thought it was best to take a chance. Anything
was better than captivity, that was seemingly just ahead of them.
One thing he was determined on and that was, that he would not be taken
alive. He ran splashing through the water, leaping rocks, with the two
sailors in fast pursuit. Not far ahead to the right was the white dash
of the breakers that shut off escape in that direction, to the left was
the cliffs.
Then before him rose a steep but not precipitous rock that had been
divided from the main cliff by the action of the water. Instantly Juarez
abandoned his desperate plan of plunging into the sea, and without
lessening his speed, he sprang up the rock, in his moccasined feet.
The sailor who was following most closely, got up ten feet when he
slipped and rolled violently to the bottom, knocking down the one who
came after. Once Juarez came near falling but he caught himself, and
kept going up, driven by a desperation that seemed to carry him over
every obstacle.
"We've got yer, ye little shrimp," exultantly cried the sailors at the
base of the rock, "Ye can't get away unless you fly."
"Shoot the blasted little varmint," roared the Captain, who, still
dizzy, had struggled to his feet. In obedience to the order a flash
punctured the darkness and there was a roar like artillery echoing among
the hollow cliffs. A slug of lead whistled past Juarez's head.
The boy had now reached the top of the rock and was at the crisis of his
fate, a distance of ten feet separated him from the main cliff, not an
impossible jump but the foothold was precarious and uncertain, and fifty
feet or more below were the jagged rocks, and enemies equally as hard,
but Juarez did not hesitate.
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
space, 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 superstitious 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
assembled his crew, got his boat free of land and rowed silently out to
sea. Whatever he had intended to do with Tom, evidently passed from his
mind, now awakened to the solution of some other problem.