Frontier Boys on the Coast Part 19

If they had only known it, down in his heart the Spaniard respected them the more, even though it seemed odd to him.

Then they went out on the verandah, fully armed and ready to take their departure. Two oil lamps near the door and fastened to the wall, backed by s.h.i.+ning reflectors sent a strong light across the verandah and into the darkness outside.

There stood the three horses, eager to be off, each one held by a Mexican groom. Caliente we already know, and the horse that Jo is to ride also. So let us take a glance at the third animal, Don Fernando. He evidently justified all the enthusiasm of his master, a truly splendid creature.

A dark chestnut, as large as Caliente and built on something the same lines. They were beautifully matched except in color. It was with a thrill of pleasure that Jim swung himself into the saddle. His mount was in fine fettle and ready for the long pull ahead.

They started from the home ranch with a thunder of hoofs in unison, the riders checking their horses to a slow gallop with a heavy hand.

Together they pressed through the waning darkness. There was a wonderful exhilaration, as they leaped forward, the horses powerful and fresh.

Instead of following in the direction of the morning before, the Spaniard turned to the East until they came near the foot of the range.

In a short time they came to a gate, which seemed to open mysteriously as they approached, but the motive power proved to be a small Mexican boy, whom the Senor had sent on ahead.

Now they were on a turf road with bushes on either side and down this they thundered, Caliente the gray, and Don Fernando the dark, matching stride for stride, with Jo well in the rear. For he found if he rode close up he was blinded and stung by sods and stones thrown back from the flying hoofs of the two horses in the front.

It was a bit lonely for Jo and he wished that one of the other boys was here to keep him company. As they rode, the bushes seemed to fly by as they do when you look from a railroad train and Jo was afraid lest his horse would be unable to keep the pace indefinitely. One thing in Jo's favor was that he was the lightest of the three and what is more to the purpose a very light rider.

So like the good horseman he was, he determined to save his horse all he could and make him last out. For eight miles or more they rode without a stop until they came to another gate. This the Spaniard unfastened and swung open without dismounting, then closed it after Jo.

The morning light was now distinct, although the fog was over the sky.

Before them stretched a long level plain that broke into sand dunes near the sea. They could see the ocean lying dark in its monotonous level of color, to the Western horizon.

"We have just left the Sebastian ranch," called the Spaniard.

"It is immense," commented Jim. "May I ask how many acres it embraces?"

"It was immense in the old days," replied the Spaniard. "Before your people took possession of the land. It was held by no fences then. But your laws were not ours and we lost many square miles. Now there are fifty thousand acres under fence."

"Fifty thousand acres!" exclaimed Jo.

"Ah, but it was double that before the Americans came," replied the Spaniard. Then he glanced critically at Caliente. "Your horse looks as cool as though he had been standing in the stable. The pace does not affect his wind either. Splendid condition!"

"Caliente is as hard as nails," said Jim proudly. "But your horse has wonderful speed."

The chestnut seemed more on edge than the old warrior, Caliente, and tossed the foam from his bit, until his dark coat was speckled with it.

"He is high strung," said the Spaniard, "but I would back him against any horse flesh in California. We can let them out here for a half dozen miles."

"Let her go, Senor. I won't let you lose me."

At the word the Spaniard gave his chafing horse his head and away the chestnut sprang in the lead. It was slightly down grade for a mile, then there was a gulch twelve feet wide and of considerable depth. It was a good jump and to make it saved a little distance. Going at top speed the chestnut took the jump in fine style. His rider half turned in his saddle to watch Jim's effort. Caliente had faced worse leaps than that, he rose to it and swept over it as gracefully as a bird.

"Good fellow!" exclaimed Jim patting him affectionately on the neck.

CHAPTER XXI

THE BANDITS

When Jo saw the gulch ahead, he decided that discretion was the better part of valor as he did not know his mount well enough to risk the leap, so he galloped a few hundred feet below, where the gulch narrowed and then he took the jump nicely, and scampered after the other two riders who were quite a way ahead.

Jim purposely held Caliente in check, keeping a hundred yards in the rear of the Spaniard. Ahead a few miles, there was a perfect sea of yellow where the tall mustard covered the plain for a great distance.

Into this they charged full tilt, the mustard reaching as high as their heads.

There was a swish of its blossoms in their faces as the powerful horses charged into it and in spite of their strength they began to tire after going some distance.

"Where is Jo?" inquired Jim suddenly after they had slowed down, "I don't see a sign of him." And he rose in his stirrups looking over the level lake of mustard.

"h.e.l.lo, Jo," he yelled at the top of his voice. No answer came. Could he be drowned in this lake? There was not a motion to indicate his whereabouts, no waving of the yellow tops.

"It is very strange," said the Spaniard. "Did he cross the gully all right?"

"Yes, I saw him take the jump below us a ways." Then Jim raised his revolver above his head and fired.

"That ought to fetch him," he said. Then they listened intently.

Suddenly about a quarter of a mile ahead of them they saw a sombrero rise like a gray mushroom above the yellow surface of the mustard, and Jo's voice came back to them.

They both gave their horses the rein, this time Jim did nothing to hold Caliente back, and with their powerful speed the two great horses tore forward, on even terms until in the last hundred yards Caliente forged ahead by half a length.

"Hold on boys," yelled Jo in warning. There was Jo sitting quietly on his horse.

"That's how you beat us," exclaimed Jim, pointing to a cow trail running diagonally through the growth of mustard.

"Yes," laughed Jo, "I struck it further down after I jumped the gully.

Otherwise you fellows would have lost me."

"Good work, Jo," said Jim. "Now we will have it easier going."

So in single file they galloped along the path, until they found themselves by noon, at the foot of a spur of mountains that extended from the main coast range to the ocean. Jim regarded this barrier in their way with a practised eye.

"This will slow us down, Senor," he said. "It looks like a pa.s.s below there, about two miles."

"Yes," said the Senor, "we can get through there all right, but it is pretty rough going."

They had to advance more slowly now, as the ground was broken into stony ravines, and there was a good deal of brush. In this kind of country Jo's horse more than held its own with the bigger animals, for he was as nimble as a goat.

"I hope we will find water, Senor," remarked Jim. "Our horses are pretty dry now."

"Yes," replied the Spaniard, "there is a good spring at the foot of the Pa.s.s."

They found it all right, in the entrance to the Pa.s.s, where there was a small green cove, surrounded with bushes, and on one side was a sheep herder's shanty. Jo investigated this immediately and found nothing in it but the charred remnants of a fire and a pair of discarded overalls.

Jim, who had himself been looking around, made a more important find.

"There has been somebody here recently," he announced. "Here are some tracks around the spring and not over twelve hours old."