Tally took the direct road to Boulder because it was the best route to the Rocky Mountain National Park, where Mr. Gilroy wished to examine certain moraines to find specimens he needed for his further work.
The wagon had rumbled along for several hours, and the tourists were now in the wonderful open country with the Rockies frowning down upon them from distant great heights, while the foothills into which they were heading were rising before them.
The road they were on ran along a bald crest of one of these foothills. Turning a bend in the trail, the scouts got their first glimpse of a genuine cattle-ranch. It was spread out in the valley between two mountains, like a table set for a picnic. The moving herd of cattle and the cowboys looked like dots on the tablecloth.
“Oh, look, every one! What are those tiny cowboys doing to the cattle?” called Julie, eagerly pointing to a mass of steers which were being gathered together at one corner of the range.
“I verily believe they are working the herd, Vernon! What say you,—shall we detour to give the scouts an idea of how they do it?” asked Mr. Gilroy.
Mr. Vernon took the field glasses and studied the mass for a few moments, then said, “To be sure, Gilroy! I’d like to watch the boys do it, too.”
“I have never witnessed the sight, although we all have heard about it,” added Mrs. Vernon. “It will be splendid to view such a scene as we travel along.”
Mr. Gilroy then turned to the driver. “Tally, when we reach the foot of this descent, take a trail that will lead us past that ranch where the cowboys are working cattle out of the herd.”
Tally nodded, and at the first turn he headed the horses towards the ranch a few miles away. When the tourists passed the rough ranch-house of logs, a number of young children ran out to watch the party of strangers, for visitors in that isolated spot were a curiosity.
The guide reined in his horses upon a knoll a short distance from the scene where the cattle were being rounded up. Spellbound, the scouts watched the great mass of the broad brown backs of the restless cattle, with their up-thrusting, shining horns constantly tossing, or impatient heads swaying from side to side. All around the vast herd were cowboys, picturesque in sombreros, and chaps with swinging ropes coiled ready to “cut out” a certain steer. Meanwhile, threading in and out of the concentrated mass, other horsemen were driving the cattle to the edge of the round-up.