"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.