“Father’s gone to Deercroft after the boys,” Jean said, as they walked back to the house. “Archie and Neil, you know. He is very glad to have them home to help him too. It’s hard to get good ranchmen on these smaller places, for they are nearly all snapped up by the large outfits. Oh, Polly, look here.” She stopped short, and pointed off at the mountain. “Can you see that great wooden cross way up there on the rock ledge, half way up the mountain. That is where the first church service was held here in Uwanda Valley. It was before father took up the claim even, when the Shoshones still wandered freely over these ranges. Now, they are all gathered into the same reservations with the Arapahoes. It seems strange, when they have always been hereditary foes, that now they have to settle down, and live in peace side by side as Uncle Sam’s good children.”
“But how did the cross come there?” asked Polly, eagerly, shading her eyes so that she might see it plainly. “It looks like a bare pine tree with a piece nailed across it.”
“That is just what it is. The Indians were encamped in the valley here, where the water was good and hunting fine, and one of our missionaries traveled on horseback over seventy miles to reach them. They wouldn’t allow him down in the camp, not even to enter it. So he went up the mountain to that rock ledge, where he could overlook them; put on his vestments, and read the service. Before he was half through, ever so many of the Indians had stolen gradually nearer and nearer until they were close to him. He stayed here after that nearly a week, as their guest, and always held the service on the same spot. They grew very fond of him, and when they left the valley, they erected that cross in memory of him.”
Just then Sue and Ted came out of the cabin, and joined them.
“Good-morning. Ruth’s waiting to button Isabel’s waist,” Sue explained.
“Button what waist? Is she daring to dress up out here? Wait till I find out.” Polly sped back to the cabin, and found Isabel just slipping on a fresh white blouse.
“Young lady, where’s your khaki skirt and blouse? If we are to ‘rough it,’ and not have a stack of washing, we must be careful. Put on that middy blouse, and come along.”
Isabel obeyed, but a bit ruefully. She stood before the little oblong mirror that hung on a nail above the washstand, and fluffed out her hair with her side-combs, while Ruth and Polly watched her, laughingly.
“I declare, Lady Vanitas, I do truly believe you’d stop to fix your hair if you were going to telephone,” said Polly. “Can’t you smell breakfast?”
“Did you all rest well, girls?” asked Mrs. Murray, smiling up at them from the kitchen table as they entered. “It’s only six now. I thought you’d be so tired you’d sleep late, but even Jeanie was out a little past five herself. Peggie, you may dish the porridge, and bring in the cream.”