To help in the progress of such a land as this! More than once Donald thought of his father's words as the train threaded its way along the banks of mighty rivers, rolled through great woodlands, or skirted cities which throbbed with the life of mighty industries. And all this vast-reaching land was his country--his! On every hand there were wonders! As the express thundered along he poured out question after question. Why did people go way to Idaho to raise sheep? Why didn't his father raise his sheep in the East? Certainly there was room enough, plenty of room, that was much nearer than Idaho. How did sheep get into the mountains of Idaho anyway? Mr. Clark ducked his head under the torrent of queries. "You will drown me with questions!" he exclaimed laughing. "Well, I shall do my best to answer you. New Mexico was the first sheep center in our country. Herds were originally brought from Spain, and these flocks worked their way up from Mexico through New Mexico and California; here the hills supplied the coolness necessary to animals with such thick coats, and furnished them at the same time with plentiful grass for food. During the day the herds grazed, and at night they were driven into corrals of cedar built by the shepherds. These sheep were mostly Merinos, a variety raised in Spain. Afterward, in 1853, a man named William W. Hollister brought three hundred ewes across our continent to the West. Think what a journey it must have been!" "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. "To be where there are bears and bob-cats and----" "Maybe, after all, you would rather have stayed at home and finished out your school year." "I rather guess not!" was the lad's emphatic reply.