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Description
Chapter 4: Return of the Mountain King.

Many years passed, and many things had changed on the Island of Sodor. Technology developed further, and more and more citizens and staff members now had mobile phones. A new quarry had opened nearby the defunct Boulder Quarry, and, when the Claypits were closed for the winter, Bill and Ben would work there under the supervision of Mavis while Toby ran the Anopha and Ffarquhar Quarry.

Over on the Culdee Fell Railway, brand new diesel engines engines had been acquired from the late 1980’s to the early 2000’s. They were an odd shape, with their engines exposed to the open air for easy access for repairs. No. 9 was named Percival, after the assistant manager of the Culdee Fell and Skarloey Railways. No. 10 was named by a school in Peel Godred after the railway ran a contest on the island. They named it Brenin, after the mythical figure in the Welsh mountains, the Brenin Llwyd. No. 11 was named Machan, after the lake and St. Loey Machan. No. 12 was called Robert after the Duke of Sodor, Sir Richard Robert Norramby. They were all relatively kind engines, and never caused any trouble.

Even so, breakdowns and accidents naturally still happened from time to time. In the mid 90’s, the railway acquired some new railcars. However, they weren’t very reliable. They were awkward and rude, and sometimes wreckless. The railway struggled for the next few years, trying to get this service to work properly. But no matter how many times the cars were examined, repaired or even scolded, the result was always the same. Then, one day, the manager had heard enough. He removed the service from the schedule altogether.

The railcars were left at the back of the sheds. They were grumbling about the whole situation all day. That night, Culdee gave them a stern look.

“You lot should consider yourselves lucky that you never had any serious accidents despite your behaviour. Things could have been a lot worse; I know they were years ago, on our opening day with Godred.” He said.

They asked who Godred was, and Culdee gave them the whole story up to his departure in the 1960’s. But even after that, they still grumbled. Even the diesels had had enough of their nonsense.

“You’re probably more useless than that Godred bloke was after his accident. At least with his spare parts he kept the railway going for over 60 years. Your spare parts would be useless to any of us!” shouted Brenin. He was a passionate engine and a loud one, but never caused trouble.

The other diesels and steam engines agreed that “Something Must Be Done.” But none knew what. Then, one of the diesels had an idea.

“I say,” interrupted Percival- the posh diesel. “Whatever did happen to that Godred fellow you mentioned, Culdee? Despite his wreckless accident, he turned out to be quite the hero to you all with his spare parts.”

“Beats me,” said Culdee. “We last saw him being taken away by one of the Fat Controller’s engines down to a quarry. As far as we know, he’s been there ever since, just sitting in a boiler room. But who knows for sure?”

“Well, if he’s still there, and you did say he had a change of heart after the accident,” queried Machan, the optimistic diesel. “Perhaps with enough time and money they could bring him back here.”

“I doubt they would,” yawned Ernest, tired from the days’ work. “And even if they could, well, we don’t even know if he’s still there, for starters. He could have been scrapped for all we know.”

“Well, we should talk to the manager then,” butted in Robert, the inquisitive diesel. “You never know without a real investigation. It seems like it’s been years since you’d heard from him; I’m honestly surprised at the lack of contact between the quarry and here. You’d think they’d let you know how he was getting on with his new life.”

"Investigation?" pondered Culdee. He thought for a moment, then it hit him. The investigation! "That's it, Robee! The investigation! There was one looking into the cause of Godred's accident, and they're still unknown after all this time! It's a cold case! When we see the Manager tomorrow, we have to make sure to mention the investigation. The truth must be revealed!"

The next morning, the engines told the Manager their idea. “We’d rather have him back than those nasty railcars!” said Alaric.

“And we’ve not heard anything about Godred for years!” puzzled Shane. “Don’t you find that a little unusual?”

“It is, isn’t it?” said the manager. “I’d not even thought about it myself actually, but that’s a very good point. Thank you all for the feedback. I shall call up the controllers when I return to my office.”

"Sir, before you go, there is one more thing we must ask!" shouted Culdee."

"Yes, what is is, Culdee?"

"After Godred's accident many years ago, they hired a team of inspectors and detective inspectors to investigate the exact cause of the accident. And we still don't know what the result of that investigation were. We don't know if it was a mechanical fault, or if it was Godred being wreckless again, or anything! Not even poor Godred knew what happened- that was the most traumatising moment of his life, and he couldn't remember whether he was behaving or what. Please sir, when you go to look into Godred's status, please, look into the investigation, too. Even if Godred is no longer with us, we feel that as his friends, we must know the truth about what happened."

The Manager was surprised; his predecessors never mentioned this investigation to him before. "Well then, that's a surprise. Thank you, Culdee. I promise to look into the matter and find the truth." And he turned away to his office.

Later on, in his office, he began making phone calls. He first spoke with his assistant manager Mr. Percival, then called the Mountain Controller, then the Fat Controller, then the Thin one. They all agreed that the situation was worth looking into. So the Fat Controller contacted the Centre Island Quarry to start an investigation into Godred's whereabouts. Then, he called the Culdee Fell Railway Board and arranged to have a meeting with them in order to discuss the matter of Godred's accident, and find the truth.

A few days later, a team of investigators was sent along to the other side of the quarry with some workmen to start searching and some trucks to clear away the rubble surrounding the old boiler room. Gradually, the rubble around the building was cleared up, and soon afterwards, the workmen carefully proceeded to enter the building.

It was dusty, musty and run down inside. Cobwebs and broken glass were everywhere. It was hard to see, so the workmen turned on their torches and mining helmets to light the way. At the other side of the room, they could see a dull, cylindrical shape. It was him.

“Hello?” called one of the workmen. No response. They inched closer.

“Hello??” he said again. Still nothing.

Then they saw why. Godred was in a deep sleep, almost comatose. He couldn’t hear them. So they got closer, shined their lights on him and began to dust him off. Godred started to stir and cough.

“Hello?” said the workmen. “Wake up, Godred, old boy.”

At last, Godred roused from his long sleep.

“Urgh…hm? Workmen…from the quarry? Oh, thank goodness. I nearly thought you were vandals or those folks who go around stealing old rails and boilers to melt down or sell. But…what’s going on here? Who are these other folks with you?”

The workmen and investigators explained everything to Godred- about the avalanche, the opening of the eastern section of the quarry, and the other engines noticing the lack of any word about him.

“So they did remember…” smiled Godred.

The workmen also told Godred about the failed experiment with the railcars, and that the other engines would have preferred Godred back in service than them.

“It seems that the railway finally has enough funding to spare to rebuild you now, with some extra assistance from North Western of course, and you won’t need to be sent all the way to Switzerland for it either; so what do you say? Would you rather sleep or be useful again?”

“I’ll take it! I’d grown so bored of sitting here alone that I’d just dozed off- I never expected to be found again!”

So Godred was carefully removed from the boiler room the next morning, after the other controllers had been called. The Fat Controller had once again called upon Donald to take Godred away, this time to the vastly expanded Crovan’s Gate Steamworks. He was very surprised to see the little engine still around.

“Weel, weel, weel, if is isnae th' wee engine fae lawn afore! Howfur mony seicont chances is lee aff tae throw at ye, ye jammy son o' a gun?”

“I honestly don’t know, Donald.” said Godred. "I had no idea I’d ever be this lucky in my life. I thought it was over on opening day, but I’ve managed to survive all these years one way or another- all without pushing a single train again. Well, I’ve had enough sitting around; I’ve learned my lesson from long ago and am ready to roll for the first time in 103 years.”

Godred was loaded up onto Donald’s flatbed, and later left at the workshop. The Manager, Chairman and Controller of his railway all came to visit and had a chat with him. Godred assured them that he was a very much changed engine and promised he would work as hard as the rest; he would not pull any tricks or take any risks.

“It’s been over 100 years since I last ran; and over those years as a source of spare parts and as a static boiler, I’ve learned a lot about how an mountain engine should behave.” he said. "I'm ready to take on the responsibilities of a real mountain engine."

They asked him if he would like a name change, as Lord Harry was later renamed Patrick after his own accident and later saving a mountain climber who was injured. Godred decided against the idea, for the time being at least.

“As much as I have changed over the years,” he said to them, “my name is only thing I really had left, and I’m not about to let it go, nor will I let it go to my smokebox this time. Perhaps later down the road we can tweak it.”

After they left to return to the railway, another engine pulled up alongside Godred. It was one of the Skarloey Railway’s engines. He had a shape similar to a Culdee Fell engine, but without a titled boiler, back-to-front cylinders or any of their distinctive mountain railway features, barring the side tanks and a tall funnel. He was a young engine, bright eyed and well-maintained.

“Hello,” said the engine. “My name is Ivo Hugh. Who are you?”

“Hello, Ivo Hugh”, smiled Godred. “I’m Godred.”

The two little engines had a long and enjoyable conversation. Godred told him everything about his accident, his second chances, and now, his return to the railway. Ivo Hugh told him all about his own life- about how he was built from an Irish engine acquired in the 90’s, his naming ceremony, and the things he had learned. The two engines were soon fast friends.

Before Ivo Hugh left, Godred had something to ask him. "Over the years, I’ve changed a lot- not just in becoming just a talking boiler, but also in personality. I feel I’ve been reborn, so to speak, and despite you and I having had very different lives, I see a lot of my ‘new’ self in you. Young, enthusiastic, willing to learn and work hard, and so on. Would it be alright with your controller if I were painted in your colours and had a naming ceremony of our own? Granted my name is not being changed but I feel like that, after seeing myself in you, that I should have one. A sort of grand unveiling of the ‘new’ me."

Ivo Hugh beamed. “Of course! I’ll talk to him as soon as I get back to the yard. I’d love to be there, too. I’ll do my best!” he said as he tooted goodbye to his new friend.

Ivo Hugh was as good as his word. The arrangements were made, and Godred was painted in Skarloey Railway Red, a break in the traditional Culdee Fell Purple. Many months later, his rebuild was complete, his steam tests passed, and the day of the ceremony came. Many people from around the island and mainland came. Donald was allowed to attend, and he brought along Ivo Hugh on his wellwagon. The other controllers and managers were there, and The Fat Controller was the host.

“Over 100 years ago, this fine railway was built on the island. Everything went smoothly during the trials, except for one engine who took risks and had a major accident on opening day, forcing the railway to close for a year for repairs and investigations.” He began. Godred looked guilty as the memories flooded back to him. He felt his position deeply here.

“However,” continued the Fat Controller, “the actual cause of the accident, despite the investigation, was never revealed to the public…until now.” Godred and the other engines looked up. Finally, an answer to the questions they’d be asking for a whole century.

“I’m pleased to say that after over 100 years, that the accident in question was not actually this engine’s fault. Rain had washed away some of the land beneath the rails after Godred had reached the Summit Station. It was not a rock stuck in the track or any sort of settlement as some might have thought. The track beneath him simply couldn’t handle his weight with the ground having been partially washed away; the missing earth and ballast were replaced later in order to retrieve the stranded coach. Why the case went cold and the information had not been unveiled many years ago is not entirely known still, but now we know the truth!”

The engines and people whistled and cheered at the news! Finally, all that guilt about the accident had been lifted from Godred, and he could be at peace with himself. No more nightmares or internal debates about how it happened; just everlasting peace of mind. At last, Godred was a free engine.

When the engines and people had settled down a little, the ceremony continued.

“This engine that you see before you, is part of the same engine who had that fateful accident. His boiler had been nearly sheared off his frames, and was used as a source of spare parts for many years, then was transferred to a quarry near Maron to be part of a boiler room. The quarry closed after a bad avalanche caused by unsafe equipment, and partially abandoned. The quarry was expanded eastward and renamed, but the engine forgotten, until recently. It is thanks to these clever mountain engines that we were able to find this one.

“Now, he has been rebuilt at our world-renowned Steamworks at Crovan’s Gate, and, with thanks to our friends at the Skarloey Railway, has now been repainted in their engines’ livery as a testament to their long-lasting relationship. After 103 years, this engine has learned what it means to work on a mountain railway; how it is dangerous to take risks, and to be kind to others and not let fame get the better of you. Ladies and Gentlemen of Sodor, it is with great pride that I present to you the engine reborn, the King of Culdee Fell, the one and only…” he paused as he pulled back the curtain obscuring the nameplate. “…GODRED!!!”

The people cheered, the steam engines whistled and honked, and the Fat Controller held his ears because of all the noise. The ceremony soon concluded, and an afterparty was to be held at the summit for the staff of the railway. Godred of course was asked to push the party train. He was honoured to have been allowed to do so, and was very careful on the way up and back down. He returned to the sheds that night after collecting the party goers and bringing them back to the base station. The other engines gave three more cheers for Godred the Mountain Engine. The King of the Mountain was here to stay.

Description
Chapter 4: Return of the Mountain King.

Many years passed, and many things had changed on the Island of Sodor. Technology developed further, and more and more citizens and staff members now had mobile phones. A new quarry had opened nearby the defunct Boulder Quarry, and, when the Claypits were closed for the winter, Bill and Ben would work there under the supervision of Mavis while Toby ran the Anopha and Ffarquhar Quarry.

Over on the Culdee Fell Railway, brand new diesel engines engines had been acquired from the late 1980’s to the early 2000’s. They were an odd shape, with their engines exposed to the open air for easy access for repairs. No. 9 was named Percival, after the assistant manager of the Culdee Fell and Skarloey Railways. No. 10 was named by a school in Peel Godred after the railway ran a contest on the island. They named it Brenin, after the mythical figure in the Welsh mountains, the Brenin Llwyd. No. 11 was named Machan, after the lake and St. Loey Machan. No. 12 was called Robert after the Duke of Sodor, Sir Richard Robert Norramby. They were all relatively kind engines, and never caused any trouble.

Even so, breakdowns and accidents naturally still happened from time to time. In the mid 90’s, the railway acquired some new railcars. However, they weren’t very reliable. They were awkward and rude, and sometimes wreckless. The railway struggled for the next few years, trying to get this service to work properly. But no matter how many times the cars were examined, repaired or even scolded, the result was always the same. Then, one day, the manager had heard enough. He removed the service from the schedule altogether.

The railcars were left at the back of the sheds. They were grumbling about the whole situation all day. That night, Culdee gave them a stern look.

“You lot should consider yourselves lucky that you never had any serious accidents despite your behaviour. Things could have been a lot worse; I know they were years ago, on our opening day with Godred.” He said.

They asked who Godred was, and Culdee gave them the whole story up to his departure in the 1960’s. But even after that, they still grumbled. Even the diesels had had enough of their nonsense.

“You’re probably more useless than that Godred bloke was after his accident. At least with his spare parts he kept the railway going for over 60 years. Your spare parts would be useless to any of us!” shouted Brenin. He was a passionate engine and a loud one, but never caused trouble.

The other diesels and steam engines agreed that “Something Must Be Done.” But none knew what. Then, one of the diesels had an idea.

“I say,” interrupted Percival- the posh diesel. “Whatever did happen to that Godred fellow you mentioned, Culdee? Despite his wreckless accident, he turned out to be quite the hero to you all with his spare parts.”

“Beats me,” said Culdee. “We last saw him being taken away by one of the Fat Controller’s engines down to a quarry. As far as we know, he’s been there ever since, just sitting in a boiler room. But who knows for sure?”

“Well, if he’s still there, and you did say he had a change of heart after the accident,” queried Machan, the optimistic diesel. “Perhaps with enough time and money they could bring him back here.”

“I doubt they would,” yawned Ernest, tired from the days’ work. “And even if they could, well, we don’t even know if he’s still there, for starters. He could have been scrapped for all we know.”

“Well, we should talk to the manager then,” butted in Robert, the inquisitive diesel. “You never know without a real investigation. It seems like it’s been years since you’d heard from him; I’m honestly surprised at the lack of contact between the quarry and here. You’d think they’d let you know how he was getting on with his new life.”

"Investigation?" pondered Culdee. He thought for a moment, then it hit him. The investigation! "That's it, Robee! The investigation! There was one looking into the cause of Godred's accident, and they're still unknown after all this time! It's a cold case! When we see the Manager tomorrow, we have to make sure to mention the investigation. The truth must be revealed!"

The next morning, the engines told the Manager their idea. “We’d rather have him back than those nasty railcars!” said Alaric.

“And we’ve not heard anything about Godred for years!” puzzled Shane. “Don’t you find that a little unusual?”

“It is, isn’t it?” said the manager. “I’d not even thought about it myself actually, but that’s a very good point. Thank you all for the feedback. I shall call up the controllers when I return to my office.”

"Sir, before you go, there is one more thing we must ask!" shouted Culdee."

"Yes, what is is, Culdee?"

"After Godred's accident many years ago, they hired a team of inspectors and detective inspectors to investigate the exact cause of the accident. And we still don't know what the result of that investigation were. We don't know if it was a mechanical fault, or if it was Godred being wreckless again, or anything! Not even poor Godred knew what happened- that was the most traumatising moment of his life, and he couldn't remember whether he was behaving or what. Please sir, when you go to look into Godred's status, please, look into the investigation, too. Even if Godred is no longer with us, we feel that as his friends, we must know the truth about what happened."

The Manager was surprised; his predecessors never mentioned this investigation to him before. "Well then, that's a surprise. Thank you, Culdee. I promise to look into the matter and find the truth." And he turned away to his office.

Later on, in his office, he began making phone calls. He first spoke with his assistant manager Mr. Percival, then called the Mountain Controller, then the Fat Controller, then the Thin one. They all agreed that the situation was worth looking into. So the Fat Controller contacted the Centre Island Quarry to start an investigation into Godred's whereabouts. Then, he called the Culdee Fell Railway Board and arranged to have a meeting with them in order to discuss the matter of Godred's accident, and find the truth.

A few days later, a team of investigators was sent along to the other side of the quarry with some workmen to start searching and some trucks to clear away the rubble surrounding the old boiler room. Gradually, the rubble around the building was cleared up, and soon afterwards, the workmen carefully proceeded to enter the building.

It was dusty, musty and run down inside. Cobwebs and broken glass were everywhere. It was hard to see, so the workmen turned on their torches and mining helmets to light the way. At the other side of the room, they could see a dull, cylindrical shape. It was him.

“Hello?” called one of the workmen. No response. They inched closer.

“Hello??” he said again. Still nothing.

Then they saw why. Godred was in a deep sleep, almost comatose. He couldn’t hear them. So they got closer, shined their lights on him and began to dust him off. Godred started to stir and cough.

“Hello?” said the workmen. “Wake up, Godred, old boy.”

At last, Godred roused from his long sleep.

“Urgh…hm? Workmen…from the quarry? Oh, thank goodness. I nearly thought you were vandals or those folks who go around stealing old rails and boilers to melt down or sell. But…what’s going on here? Who are these other folks with you?”

The workmen and investigators explained everything to Godred- about the avalanche, the opening of the eastern section of the quarry, and the other engines noticing the lack of any word about him.

“So they did remember…” smiled Godred.

The workmen also told Godred about the failed experiment with the railcars, and that the other engines would have preferred Godred back in service than them.

“It seems that the railway finally has enough funding to spare to rebuild you now, with some extra assistance from North Western of course, and you won’t need to be sent all the way to Switzerland for it either; so what do you say? Would you rather sleep or be useful again?”

“I’ll take it! I’d grown so bored of sitting here alone that I’d just dozed off- I never expected to be found again!”

So Godred was carefully removed from the boiler room the next morning, after the other controllers had been called. The Fat Controller had once again called upon Donald to take Godred away, this time to the vastly expanded Crovan’s Gate Steamworks. He was very surprised to see the little engine still around.

“Weel, weel, weel, if is isnae th' wee engine fae lawn afore! Howfur mony seicont chances is lee aff tae throw at ye, ye jammy son o' a gun?”

“I honestly don’t know, Donald.” said Godred. "I had no idea I’d ever be this lucky in my life. I thought it was over on opening day, but I’ve managed to survive all these years one way or another- all without pushing a single train again. Well, I’ve had enough sitting around; I’ve learned my lesson from long ago and am ready to roll for the first time in 103 years.”

Godred was loaded up onto Donald’s flatbed, and later left at the workshop. The Manager, Chairman and Controller of his railway all came to visit and had a chat with him. Godred assured them that he was a very much changed engine and promised he would work as hard as the rest; he would not pull any tricks or take any risks.

“It’s been over 100 years since I last ran; and over those years as a source of spare parts and as a static boiler, I’ve learned a lot about how an mountain engine should behave.” he said. "I'm ready to take on the responsibilities of a real mountain engine."

They asked him if he would like a name change, as Lord Harry was later renamed Patrick after his own accident and later saving a mountain climber who was injured. Godred decided against the idea, for the time being at least.

“As much as I have changed over the years,” he said to them, “my name is only thing I really had left, and I’m not about to let it go, nor will I let it go to my smokebox this time. Perhaps later down the road we can tweak it.”

After they left to return to the railway, another engine pulled up alongside Godred. It was one of the Skarloey Railway’s engines. He had a shape similar to a Culdee Fell engine, but without a titled boiler, back-to-front cylinders or any of their distinctive mountain railway features, barring the side tanks and a tall funnel. He was a young engine, bright eyed and well-maintained.

“Hello,” said the engine. “My name is Ivo Hugh. Who are you?”

“Hello, Ivo Hugh”, smiled Godred. “I’m Godred.”

The two little engines had a long and enjoyable conversation. Godred told him everything about his accident, his second chances, and now, his return to the railway. Ivo Hugh told him all about his own life- about how he was built from an Irish engine acquired in the 90’s, his naming ceremony, and the things he had learned. The two engines were soon fast friends.

Before Ivo Hugh left, Godred had something to ask him. "Over the years, I’ve changed a lot- not just in becoming just a talking boiler, but also in personality. I feel I’ve been reborn, so to speak, and despite you and I having had very different lives, I see a lot of my ‘new’ self in you. Young, enthusiastic, willing to learn and work hard, and so on. Would it be alright with your controller if I were painted in your colours and had a naming ceremony of our own? Granted my name is not being changed but I feel like that, after seeing myself in you, that I should have one. A sort of grand unveiling of the ‘new’ me."

Ivo Hugh beamed. “Of course! I’ll talk to him as soon as I get back to the yard. I’d love to be there, too. I’ll do my best!” he said as he tooted goodbye to his new friend.

Ivo Hugh was as good as his word. The arrangements were made, and Godred was painted in Skarloey Railway Red, a break in the traditional Culdee Fell Purple. Many months later, his rebuild was complete, his steam tests passed, and the day of the ceremony came. Many people from around the island and mainland came. Donald was allowed to attend, and he brought along Ivo Hugh on his wellwagon. The other controllers and managers were there, and The Fat Controller was the host.

“Over 100 years ago, this fine railway was built on the island. Everything went smoothly during the trials, except for one engine who took risks and had a major accident on opening day, forcing the railway to close for a year for repairs and investigations.” He began. Godred looked guilty as the memories flooded back to him. He felt his position deeply here.

“However,” continued the Fat Controller, “the actual cause of the accident, despite the investigation, was never revealed to the public…until now.” Godred and the other engines looked up. Finally, an answer to the questions they’d be asking for a whole century.

“I’m pleased to say that after over 100 years, that the accident in question was not actually this engine’s fault. Rain had washed away some of the land beneath the rails after Godred had reached the Summit Station. It was not a rock stuck in the track or any sort of settlement as some might have thought. The track beneath him simply couldn’t handle his weight with the ground having been partially washed away; the missing earth and ballast were replaced later in order to retrieve the stranded coach. Why the case went cold and the information had not been unveiled many years ago is not entirely known still, but now we know the truth!”

The engines and people whistled and cheered at the news! Finally, all that guilt about the accident had been lifted from Godred, and he could be at peace with himself. No more nightmares or internal debates about how it happened; just everlasting peace of mind. At last, Godred was a free engine.

When the engines and people had settled down a little, the ceremony continued.

“This engine that you see before you, is part of the same engine who had that fateful accident. His boiler had been nearly sheared off his frames, and was used as a source of spare parts for many years, then was transferred to a quarry near Maron to be part of a boiler room. The quarry closed after a bad avalanche caused by unsafe equipment, and partially abandoned. The quarry was expanded eastward and renamed, but the engine forgotten, until recently. It is thanks to these clever mountain engines that we were able to find this one.

“Now, he has been rebuilt at our world-renowned Steamworks at Crovan’s Gate, and, with thanks to our friends at the Skarloey Railway, has now been repainted in their engines’ livery as a testament to their long-lasting relationship. After 103 years, this engine has learned what it means to work on a mountain railway; how it is dangerous to take risks, and to be kind to others and not let fame get the better of you. Ladies and Gentlemen of Sodor, it is with great pride that I present to you the engine reborn, the King of Culdee Fell, the one and only…” he paused as he pulled back the curtain obscuring the nameplate. “…GODRED!!!”

The people cheered, the steam engines whistled and honked, and the Fat Controller held his ears because of all the noise. The ceremony soon concluded, and an afterparty was to be held at the summit for the staff of the railway. Godred of course was asked to push the party train. He was honoured to have been allowed to do so, and was very careful on the way up and back down. He returned to the sheds that night after collecting the party goers and bringing them back to the base station. The other engines gave three more cheers for Godred the Mountain Engine. The King of the Mountain was here to stay.