“There wasn’t anything to tell. The Indians were in debt, I guess, and had to sell their ponies, some of them anyway, to settle. They showed them off first, and many cowboys had ridden in from outlying ranches to watch the fun. Each Indian would mount his pony, and try to put it through all kinds of tricks, with the cowboys shouting at them, and urging them on. There’s a little square of green grass in the center of the town. At least, it’s supposed to be green, but it was pretty well sun-dried and brown. Father and I stood there, and watched the racing, and I noticed the old Indian next to me. He was very tall and homely, with a broad band tied around his head, and one big eagle’s feather slipped through. Then he wore an old army shirt, and fringed buckskin ‘chaps,’ and last of all, there was a heavy government blanket half trailing from his waist; and mind, girls, this was in July.”
“Maybe he felt that he had to wear it as long as the government had given it to him,” suggested Isabel, thoughtfully.
“Maybe he did. He watched the race with his arms folded, and when father spoke to him, he wouldn’t even glance at him. But I said I couldn’t see, and all at once, he lifted me up in his arms, where I could get a good view of the street and the ponies, and held me there. And afterwards, when we were buying things at the general store, we found out he was old Chief Thunder Cloud who used to be with Sitting Bull years ago.”
“Can we get any bead work, or baskets around here, Miss Jean?” asked Polly, as the remembrance of Mrs. Yates’ commission occurred to her.
“You can buy them at any of the reservations. When the bishop comes, we will ask him.”
“When will he be here?” questioned Polly, with interest.
“Any time. He usually stops over night at our ranch on his way north. It is different being a bishop out here from what it means in the eastern or even middle states. Here he is a pioneer missionary. Do you know, girls, that he even has jurisdiction over the reservations, at least the Shoshone one?”
“He’s tall, and kind of young, and rides a horse like a soldier,” put in Peggie. “And he looks like a soldier. That’s why all the ranchers and cowboys like him, I guess.”
“I’m getting cold,” Isabel exclaimed, shivering.
“I should think you would,” declared Ted, “standing there with the water up to your ankles. Isabel, I sigh to think what would ever become of you in a deep swimming tank. You’d cling to the side like an anemone.”