"That is what they call Chimney Rock," put in Si. "Maybe Dixon was telling me about it. It won't be long now before we reach the top of the ridge and then we'll get our first sight of the Rocky Mountains." The young gold hunters found the vicinity of Chimney Rock very beautiful, and that day they rested at a point where they could look for a good many miles around them. Chimney Rock was of soft stone, several hundred feet high, a well-defined landmark on that strange trail. Beyond it were a series of bluffs. "Now we are going to get our first sight of the Rockies," said Mark, some days later, after another rain. "The storm cleared the air, so we ought to get a pretty good view." They were close to the top of the ridge, along which they had traveled slowly and laboriously, for the road was nothing like what it is to-day, with its many towns and villages. The boys could not wait, and Mark and Si rushed on ahead of Bob, who was driving the mule. "Hurrah! Here we are!" shouted Mark, throwing up his cap. "The mountains, as plain as day!" The mountains were certainly there, but so far off that they were a mere blue-and-white blur in the distance. The tops were lost in the clouds, and this caused Si to draw a deep breath. "It ain't going to be an easy task climbing over them," was his sober comment. "Want to go back?" asked Mark, quickly. "No! It's California or bust with me!" answered the farm boy, quickly. "Why, if I went back now, I'd never be able to look father and mother in the face again," he added. Presently Darling came plodding up to the top of the ridge, with Bob trudging alongside of the wagon. Bob's face broke into a grin as he viewed the scene beyond. "Are those the Rockies?" he asked. "Yes," said both of the other boys. "Good enough, we'll soon be over 'em," answered the former sailor boy, softly. "Ain't that so, Darling?" he added, to the mule. The animal laid back his ears, blinked one eye, and gave a gentle heehaw for an answer. They spent the rest of the day on the ridge and early the next day started on the direct trail for Fort Laramie. The trail was now crowded and they had plenty of company. Many of the folks along the trail called them the Boy Triplets, because they were always seen together. Strangers were astonished when they learned that the boys had not known each other previous to starting on the trip. "You certainly pull well together," said one pioneer, as he journeyed along with them for several miles. "No quarrelin' or nothin', eh?" "None so far," answered Mark. "Must all have good natures. I had a partner, but we didn't hitch a week. When I wanted to do one thing he always wanted to do something else." "We know just what we want to do and we are going to do it," put in Bob. "We haven't got time to quarrel."