"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 lasso 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 dashing 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?"