CHAPTER VIII—A REAL FIND
Mile after mile they covered and still the snow-clad peaks of the Raton Range seemed as elusive as the will-o’-the-wisp.
The next morning, however, the outlines of the base became more perceptible as they drew nearer. At first sight it had a dark, grim look in the early morning light, a noticeable contrast to the green pastoral beauty of the foothills.
They were going to take some pictures of the summit and Mr. Wilde looked critically up at the crest that loomed before them now like a lighthouse in the heavens. He mentioned that they were going to foot it after they struck the base and they wouldn’t be riding again for at least a couple of weeks.
That statement was very gratifying to the boys. They experienced a thrill in the freedom they would have roaming about at will for the first time since they started. In short, they sat up and took notice immediately.
To Westy the mountains and the smell of pine and the camp-fire at night were alluring. There never was bacon that tasted like the bacon fried over hot coals and no kitchen range ever boiled or percolated coffee as redolent as the coffee that was boiled in the Great Outdoors.
“Gee, it’s a pip of a day!” Westy was full of enthusiastic anticipation.
“Yeh, could be much worse!” Rip said gloomily.
“Aw, quit the crépe-hanging, Rip! We’ll get a kick out of something if it’s only one of the mules.”
That afternoon they ascended the range and little by little the dark stretch of the base beneath them disappeared and the light seemed brighter with each forward step. Billy suggested that they look out for a good camping spot as they were reaching just about the right location to start out from each day and return to at night without having to move their stuff on all the time.