Racially mixed people -- Fiction; Western stories; Wyoming -- Fiction
The left fork of the road had a meaner destiny. It dipped straight into
desolation, penetrating a naked wilderness where bad men skulked till
the evil they had done was forgotten in deeds that called afresh to
Heaven for vengeance. It was well away on this west fork of the road
that they lynched Kate Watson—“Cattle Kate”—for the crime of loyalty.
It was she, intrepid and reckless, who threatened the horde of masked
scoundrels when they came to lynch her man for the iniquity of raising
a few vegetables on a strip of ground that cut into their grazing
country. And when she, recognizing them, masked though they were,
threatened them with the vengeance of the law, they hanged her with her
man high as Haman.
Judith watched Hamilton with narrowing eyes. And now she was all
Indian, the white woman in her dead. Only the Sioux watched, and, in
the patient, Indian style, bided its time. “Cattle thieves,” “the girl
at Wetmore’s”—the words sang themselves in her head like an
incantation. “Cattle thieves” meant her brother, their recognized
leader—her brother, who was dearer to her than the heart in her breast,
the eye in her head, the right hand that held together the shambling,
uncertain destiny of her people. Would he turn to the left, Justice, on
a pale horse, hunting her brother gallowsward? Would he turn towards
the right, the impetuous lover spurring his steed that he might come
swiftly to the woman. A pulse in her bosom rose slowly until her breath
was suspended, then fell again; she was still watching, without an
outward quiver, long after he had turned to the right—and the woman.
VI.
A Daughter Of The Desert
Judith knew that the name of the girl whose letter sent Peter Hamilton
vaulting to the saddle was Katherine Colebrooke. There had been a deal
of letter-writing between her and the young cow-puncher of late, of
which perforce, by a singular irony of fate, the postmistress had been
the involuntary instrument. The correspondence had followed a recent
hasty journey to New York, undertaken somewhat unwillingly by Hamilton
in the interest of certain affairs connected with the settlement of an
estate.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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