“Let’s hurry and get going,” he urged, untying the mules.
Farther over the rocky trail the three adventurers trudged, keeping a sharp lookout for anything unusual.
Always in the distance were massive snow-clad peaks, which on this morning were enshrouded in a heavy mist. Usually they were plainly visible, especially through the high-powered binoculars that were carried by Joe.
Gradually the path spiraled down the steep slope until it passed through a narrow valley, which was green with a variety of luxuriant vegetation. So dense were the plants that they almost formed a jungle.
“Look at this,” cried Bob, moving over to a vine that was laden with large red berries. “Wonder if they’re good to eat?”
“Yes.” The old man had broken off a branch and was eagerly partaking of the fruit. “They are wild cherries, or tomatoes, as some call them. There is nothing better for taste.”
“Right you are!” agreed Joe, after he had eaten several of the berries. “They’re fine!”
They picked a sackful of the fruit to have at the noon meal. Then they resumed the journey.
At places the trail was overgrown with weeds and grass, making it difficult to follow it. But Dr. Rander had been through this region before and did not hesitate long in picking out the right branch.