St. Paul was reached in due season, and once more they started forth, this time headed west, with the hunting-land beckoning them on.
"Tell me about this, will you!" remarked Jerry, after they had crossed the broad prairies and were climbing the tremendous heights that lie like a barrier between the center of the continent and the Pacific Slope. "How much more of it do we have before us, Frank? I'm getting so filled with wonder and awe that my tongue is getting into a rut with saying 'Ah!' so much."
"Less than a day will see us through now. Once we get over this range there lies a long valley, and in that is where Martin Mabie has his ranch."
"Then we'll do our hunting along the sides of the mountains?" suggested Will, who had used up nearly half his supply of films already, taking views of the wonderful things they saw on the trip.
"That's my impression, from what he wrote," replied Frank.
"And he also said game was fairly plentiful, if I remember aright," remarked Jerry.
"Well, he did say that they had been so busy of late on the ranch that no one had had time for hunting, and consequently the game had not been
bothered very much; which, I suppose, amounts to the same thing."
"H'm! I hope he won't be so rushed with work that he can't take the time to go with us. Half of the fun would be lost if Mr. Mabie couldn't be along; for Jesse says he is the most entertaining man alive," grunted Bluff.
"Oh, you forget that he said by the time we got there the work would slacken up, and he promised himself a vacation, just to renew his old pleasure of camping out in the wilderness, away from all mankind," laughed Frank.