That evening they were on the train from San Francisco to Ney York, which was three thousand seven hundred and eighty six miles away. In seven days the train would take them from the Pacific to the Atlantic Ocean.
The train steamed through California at full speed. It crossed step mountain slopes, deep canyons and hair-raising curves moving thorough a few tunnels and bridges.
Suddenly the train slowed down as a herd of buffaloes charged across the railway track. The train was forced to stop till the Procession passed like a great brown river. The hard took a full three hours to cross the tracks. Night had fallen by the train could Move again.
The train headed for the steep mountains. This was the most difficult part of the journey with its winding roads. They passed the highest point of their journey, 7524 feet above sea level. In a few hours they would be out of the Rocky Mountains.
After the passengers had taken their breakfast the train gave a shrill whistle and braked with a jerk and came to a halt. Passepartout, a French passenger went to see what the matter was. There was nothing to be seen. The train had halted in the middle of nowhere. There was no station in sight.
He heard the signalman say, "The train can’t go on. The bridge near Medicine Bow won't support the weight." It was a suspension bridge and some of its cables were broken.
The driver of the train said, "Perhaps there is a chance of getting across the bridge by letting the train proceed at maximum speed."
"All aboard." said the conductor. The passengers got on the train and the driver reversed the train for nearly a mile. Then he gave another whistle. The train began to move forward so fast that it was frightening. The passengers had the feeling that the train was not resting on the tracks but was floating through air. As the engine shrieked and the train shuddered they were over the bridge in a flash!
As soon as they passed over the Medicine River, the bridge crashed down into the raging waters below. The train continued its course that evening without interruption.
As the train moved forward the next day, it was suddenly attacked by hundreds of Sioux Indians (a tribe of native Red Indians). Many of them appeared from all sides, jumped on to the moving train and pulled themselves up the steps. They were armed with rifles. Some of the travelers had revolvers. They defended themselves bravely by answering with pistol shots.
The conductor cried out, "The train must be stopped or we are lost!" "I will go," said Passepartout. He opened a door and unseen by the Red Indians he slipped under the racing train, and holding on to the chains he slowly reached the engine. Then he separated the engine from the coaches. They started to slow down.
They had neared a station where soldiers, attracted by the sound of shots, hurried towards the train. The Red Indians on board saw them and quickly jumped off before the train stopped entirely.
