“Daemon, I don’t need to know that part.” I gave him a light push on the arm.
He had that weird look again and shook his head. “Okay, I’ll tell you the story and I’ll leave some of the more creepy but natural facts out.”
A long branch stretched across the path, and Daemon held it up for me to duck under, my shoulder brushing against his chest as I passed before he dropped the branch and took the lead again. “What story?”
“You’ll see. Now pay attention…A long time ago, this land was forest and hills, which isn’t too different than today with the exception of a few small towns.” His finger drifted over the lower hanging branches as we walked, pushing the lower ones aside for me. “But imagine this place so sparsely populated that it could take days, even weeks, before you reached your nearest neighbor.” I shivered. “That seems so lonely.”
“But you have to understand that was the way of life hundreds of years ago. Farmers and mountain men lived a few miles away from one another, but the distance was all traveled by foot or horse. It wasn’t usually the safest way to travel.”
“I can imagine,” I responded faintly.
“The Seneca Indian tribe traveled through the eastern part of the United States, and at some point, they walked this very path toward the Seneca Rocks.” His gaze met mine. “Did you know that this very small path behind your house leads right to the base of them?”
“No. They always seem so far off in the distance I never thought of them as being that close.”
“If you stayed on this path for a couple of miles you’d find yourself at the base of them. It’s a pretty rocky patch even the most experienced rock climbers stay away from. See, the Seneca Rocks spread from Grant to Pendleton County, with the highest point being Spruce Knob and an outcropping near Seneca called Champe Rocks. Now they are kind of hard to get to, since it usually involves invading someone’s property, but it can be worth it if you can scale way beyond nine hundred feet in the sky,” he finished wistfully.
“That sounds like fun.” Not. I couldn’t keep the sarcasm from my voice, so I offered a pained smile. I didn’t want to spoil the mood. This was probably the longest Daemon and I had ever spoken without some statement earning him the finger.
“It is if you’re not afraid of slipping.” He laughed at my expression. “Anyway, the Seneca Rocks are made out of quartzite, which is part sandstone. That’s why it sometimes has a pinkish tint to it. Quartzite is considered a beta quartz. People who believe in…abnormal powers or powers in…nature, as a lot Indian tribes did at one time, believe that any form of beta quartz allows energy to be stored and transformed, even manipulated by it. It can throw electronics and other stuff off, too—hide things.”
“Ooo-kay.” He shot me a stern look, so I decided not to interrupt anymore.
“Possibly the beta quartz drew the Seneca Tribe to this area. No one knows since they weren’t native to West Virginia. No one knows how long any of them camped here, traded, or made war.” He paused for a few moments, scanning the terrain as if he could see them there, shadows of the past. “But they do have a very romantic legend.”
“Romantic?” I asked as he led me around a small stream. I couldn’t imagine anything romantic about something thrusting nine hundred feet in the sky.
“See, there was this beautiful Indian princess called Snowbird, who had asked seven of the tribe’s strongest warriors to prove their love by doing something only she had been able to do. Many men wanted to be with her for her beauty and her rank. But she wanted an equal.
“When the day arrived for her to choose her husband, she set forth a challenge so only the bravest and most dedicated warrior would win her hand. She asked her suitors to climb the highest rock with her,” he continued softly, slowing down so we were walking side by side on the narrow path now. “They all started, but as it became more difficult, three turned back. A fourth became weary and a fifth crumpled in exhaustion. Only two remained, and the beautiful Snowbird stayed in the lead. Finally, she reached the highest point and turned to see who was the bravest and strongest of all warriors. Only one remained a few feet behind her and as she watched, he began to slip.” I was quickly caught up in the legend. The idea of making seven men fight and face possible death to win your hand was unimaginable to me.
“Snowbird paused only for a second, thinking that this brave warrior obviously was the strongest, but he was not her equal. She could save him or she could let him slip. He was brave, but he had yet to reach the highest point like she had.”
“But he was right behind her? How could she just let him fall?” I decided that this story sucked if Snowbird let the guy fall.
“What would you do?” he asked curiously.
“Not that I would ever ask a group of men to prove their love by doing something incredibly dangerous and stupid like that, but if I ever found myself in that situation, as unlikely—”
“Kat?” he chided.
“I would reach out and save him, of course. I couldn’t let him fall to his death.”
“But he didn’t prove himself.”
“That doesn’t matter,” I argued. “He was right behind her and how beautiful could you truly be if you let a man fall to his death just because he slipped? How could you even be capable of love or worthy of it, for that matter, if you let that happen?” He nodded. “Well, Snowbird thought like you.”