Not only Tom Rover and the conductor but the porter and a number of passengers listened with interest to the story the boys had to tell. Quite a few laughed when they related how the bull had wanted to horn them.
“You were lucky to get off so easily,” said Tom Rover. “And doubly lucky that you weren’t left behind.”
“It was clever to think of crossing the stream from tree to tree,” commented the conductor. “Bright idea! Of course, the bull might have waded over, but that would have taken time.”
The boys went back to their sections and were content for the rest of that Fourth of July to take it easy.
“Well, we had a touch of Western life right at the start,” remarked Randy. “I suppose we’ve got to look for all sorts of things to happen when we get out on Sunset Trail.”
“Oh, you mustn’t think the West is as wild as all that,” answered Tom Rover. “Most of the wild things that are happening to-day are in the movies. You may find things no more exciting at Gold Hill Falls than in any coal-mining town in Virginia or Pennsylvania. With the coming of men to those places, the wild animals have taken themselves to the tall timber.”
“Oh, don’t spoil the outing, Uncle Tom!” cried Fred. “Why, we expect to see bears and mountain lions and everything like that before we go back!”
“All right then, Fred, go to it,” laughed his uncle. “Only don’t let the bears and mountain lions see you first.”
By noon of the next day they had left the prairies behind and were slowly but surely climbing the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. Now the character of the scenery changed, and the boys were gradually impressed with the beauties of nature as unfolded to their vision.
“Here’s a regular scene for a painter,” said Jack presently, and he pointed down into a deep valley where a river wound its way among numerous bowlders. There was a small stretch of pasture land on one side of the stream, and beyond was a mountain covered with timber of various kinds.