Black Hills (S.D. and Wyo.) -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction; Frontier and pioneer life -- United States -- Fiction
As has been hinted, the outward and visible signs of prosperity had to
some extent increased the feminine population of Copper Creek. Molly
Lafond had long since lost the distinction of being the only woman in
camp. Some of the newcomers were blessed with wives, one or two were
favored with daughters. All told, there were perhaps fifteen or twenty
of the gentler sex scattered among the new and old log cabins of the
valley.
But from them Molly had little to fear in the way of rivalry. The
older women were either buxom and decisive, representing the sturdier
pioneer race, or dyspeptic and drawling, as typical of the effects of a
high altitude on nervous and underfed organizations. The young girls
were angular, awkward and shy, especially so when in the presence of
Miss Molly's breezy self-possession. They would all make good
"filling" at the new dance-house ball, but they would never obtrude
into the foreground.
Then Bismarck Anne came to camp. She conceived the idea quite
suddenly, late one afternoon, and without so much as a word to anybody
she strapped her most becoming ball-gown inside a poncho and rode
across from Spanish Gulch on her little pinto pony.
Bismarck Anne was at that time in the heyday of her youth and
prosperity. She was of the dark-skinned, black-haired, black-eyed
type, so "common" when it falls just short of attractiveness, but so
abundantly vital when, as in the present case, it does not fall short.
Bismarck Anne was instinct, charged with life. Into everything she did
she threw a verve and abandon that carried the adventure well through
with something to spare. And she was afraid of nothing. She denied
the possibility of nothing.
About three o'clock of the afternoon she galloped in. A number of men
recognized her and ran to help her down from her horse. Everybody knew
her by sight or reputation, but few had ever dared attempt her
acquaintance, for ordinarily Bismarck Anne chose her coterie from the
powerful and wealthy. Now, however, there seemed to be little cause
for anxiety on that point. Bismarck Anne had come over for a good time
and she was going to have it. If the men who surrounded her on her
arrival felt any momentary restraint or trepidation, they were almost
immediately set at ease by the warmth of her manner.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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