"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 reassure 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 lasso to the tree," said Jim, "so you will feel perfectly safe, Jo."
The tree referred to was a sturdy, 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.