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WYOMING.

     The whole land is old.  People, plants, animals, of strange appearance and size lived here when the world was new.   They died.  Long the land lay desolate.  Centuries passed.  Then came bold heroes of a strange white color, the latest of the many tribes who had crawled over its wrinkled face.  They came with noise, with rhythmic shouts and yells, with the sharp talk of strange instruments that breathed smoke and fire.  They ran to and fro.  They hunted to the death the wild men who had come to the land ages upon ages after the first strange days.  They killed, in the vigor of their keen enjoyment, the shaggy beasts that covered the plains even like great swarms of bees.  They dug up the ground.  They dug great ditches.  Their fat kine and their wool-covered beasts everywhere surmounted the low hills and plains and ran in the valleys, and the white men waxed fat.  But ever they were filled with unrest and ran to and fro.  They found vast wealth in the land and in their labors; but ever they continued to run to and fro; and, to this day, they are disquited, seeking more gain, seeking more wealth; ever running to and fro.  And the fame of this land hath encircled the earth.