ld send the water lapping around
their horses' feet. Jim recognized the danger. They must get around that
promontory or give up beaten. Then he gave Caliente a touch with a spur,
the first that day. With a snort, the spirited animal sprang forward
faster than before and at his shoulder was the chestnut with flaming
nostril.

None too soon had they reached the headland, for the recurrent waves
were beginning to surge against it, with full force and gnawing foam. In
the fierce fury of their charge, they sent their horses against the sea.
It was at the long withdrawal that made bare the scattered black rocks,
that they rounded the headland.

But too soon a great thundering wave with the force of the Pacific
behind it came roaring in and swelled to the horses' throats, almost
submerging the riders. But the animals held against its withdrawing
power and before the ocean could return to the attack, they had got
beyond the headland to a safe place on the beach.

The horses were trembling and quivering with their exertions and with
the fear of the sea which is the most terrible and paralyzing of all
fears. Jim drew a long breath of relief and looked ahead to see if there
was any sign of Jo. Then to his consternation he saw that the beach
curved inland and at the further end of the curve was another frowning
headland thrusting itself out somewhat further than the one they had but
just rounded.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE ENCHANTED ISLE

Let us now return to the Sea Eagle, and find out what is happening
there.

You recollect that Juarez had just discovered two islands lying on the
South-eastern horizon, the one, long and low, the other comparatively
short and dumpy. He had been conversing with the tall shepherd of the
island, who seemed to take an interest in Juarez. But because of his
isolated life during a greater part of the year, he would have taken an
interest in a stone idol, if he had chanced to discover one.

"Which of these islands are we making for?" inquired Juarez.

"The one where we land," replied the sheep farmer oracularly. "I might
ask the Cap'n, only I never pester him with questions. You aren't a
Yankee, are you?"

"No," replied Juarez, "I'm not. My folks live in Western Kansas."

"I'm glad to hear it, son. But what are you doing here?" he asked.

"You aren't a Yankee, are you?" inquired Juarez, quizzically. The man
laughed softly to himself.

"You've got me there, lad," he said. "It looks to me