"Wasn't the railroad built?"
"No. Neither were there any bridges. There were rivers to swim and mountains to climb; furthermore there was many a search for water-holes, because Mr. Hollister was not well enough acquainted with the country to know where to find water for himself and the herd."
"I should not think a sheep would have lived through such a journey!" cried Donald.
"Many of them did, however," answered his father, "and that is how our western sheep-raising industry began. Now it is one of the great occupations of our land, and soon you and I are to know more about it."
"And about Sandy McCulloch, too, I hope," put in the boy.
"I hope so; only remember—not a word of that telegram to any one at the ranch. We shall get into Glen City this noon if our train is on time and we must trust to luck in getting to Crescent Ranch. It is fifteen miles from the station, up in the foot-hills of the Rockies."
"The—the—you don't mean the Rocky Mountains!" gasped Donald, his eyes very wide open.
"Certainly. Have you forgotten your geography?"
"Of course I know that a spur of the Rocky Mountains does run diagonally across Idaho; but somehow I never thought of really being in the Rocky Mountains!"
Mr. Clark enjoyed the outburst.