"I should say so," answered Dick, shivering as he recalled Jack's recent danger.
"Gee! In all that excitement, I most forgot our first glimpse o' Wanna's mountain—that must be it. In a few days, Dick, if our good luck keeps up, we'll be prospectin' on its slopes. Honest, it gives me a sort o' funny feelin'."
"If we don't find anything, Tim, I'll have all kinds of the same brand," grinned Dick, softly. "Wouldn't it be fierce? Hello! There's the packhorse now—third ridge."
"Yes! Gee! Let's whoop it up a bit, or he'll reach the Jabberwock first."
In obedience to a touch of the quirt, the sturdy little bronchos bounded off, and were soon treading in single file a wide expanse of soft, marshy ground. On the east they could see a dense forest extending off for a considerable distance.
Presently they were obliged to dismount in a wild little gorge, and force their way through tangled briars to the brink of a stream which tinkled its way merrily between a fringe of tall vegetation.
"Bet the bronc was smart enough to find an easier way than this," grumbled Tim.
"Well, if we're not smart, we're smarting, all right," said Dick, with a faint smile, as he looked at his scratched-up hands. "We'll have a nice, cool drink, fill our canteens, and let the broncs indulge."
The animals quaffed the clear water eagerly; so did the boys. Then, after a short rest, they sprang into the saddle again, crossed the stream, and urged the bronchos up a steep slope.
At the top, Dick turned.