CHAPTER XIV
FIVE TENDERFEET
The trail led upward from the valley over the buttes, winding in and out between rocks that formed natural buttresses and fortifications. Only the scrub pines and low spruces found a foothold on them, but the crevices were filled with mosses and stray flowers. Finally, they came to a small plateau, or stretch of tableland, and on its brink, overlooking the ranch and valley, was Council Rock. It was an immense, natural formation of stone, and as the girls stood there, they could almost see the circle of chiefs sitting around it, listening in stolid mistrust to the parleyings of their white brothers.
“There are steps in the rock on this side, girls,” Jean said, showing them how the stones had been hewn into stairs at one side. “Father has said he did not doubt that at some far-off age, the Indians offered sacrifices here to the Sun god. That was the highest worship up here in our corner of the State, the worship of the Sun god. They used to hold the great ceremonial here each year, over on Sundance Mountain. Isn’t that odd? Think how at almost the same time, nations were worshiping the Sun god in Persia, and Japan, and Peru, and here.”
“I think it was better than praying to three-faced images and totem poles,” said Ruth, in her grave, unsmiling way. “I suppose the sun seemed warm and good to them, and they thought it made the world beautiful.”
“‘And the Sun of Righteousness shall rise with healing in His wings,’” quoted Jean, softly. “It is a beautiful thought, Ruth. Let us sit down here like the old-time chiefs, and talk of our Wyoming.”
“Why do they call it that, Miss Murray?” asked Isabel. “I always like to know about names.”
“Do you? This name is a rather sad one. After the massacre of 1866, it was called Wyoming, in memory of the terrible massacre of settlers in the old Wyoming valley in Pennsylvania. The first white explorer who found us, was the Chevalier de la Verendrye, back in the early part of the eighteenth century. He took up fur trading with the natives, and lived eleven years among them. Later came John Colter—”
“He discovered the Yellowstone,” put in Ruth, “and then the trappers and traders all came up here. We had that, girls, in Irving’s story about Captain Bonneville, don’t you remember?”
“And the first white settlement was at Fort Laramie,” went on Jean, dreamily. Her chin was uplifted. She looked off over the valley with its winding creek bed, fringed with cottonwoods, and almost forgot the girls. Dearly had she always loved the story of Wyoming’s upward fight to statehood. “Then a few more settlements were made. But it was always hard and dangerous, because there was no protection from the Indians, and no guarded line of travel. Sandy loves to tell stories of the old Bonzeman trail, and Conner’s march in which he participated, back in ’65. But finally the needs became so urgent that the railroad decided to push through an overland route following the old trail.”