The river press. [volume] (Fort Benton, Mont.) 1880-current, 1881-02-02

keeper. She was on the rustic, and made Q
living by keepin' q sort Of hotel for US row
in miners-did well at it too-charged q dol
lar Q meal and two for lodgin', an I've seen
thirty men spread on the floor asleep many 8
time. Them was good times then, pard, and
plenty Of dust. Some Of the boys said as
the Frenchman that stayed around there was
not hers by law, but it was none Of our bust
ness, and we cared little for them things
them days. Fifteen years ago about this time
[ stopped there, an there was three others
besides me. / felt kinder strange that night
and didn't sleep well. Woke up about 10
o'clock an was thirsty an feverish, so got
up an went out to the spring, about forty
yards away. The moon was q shinin' bright
just about as she will tonight. I was lay
in down to the spring drinkin', an was about
to get up, when / saw the horns an head Of
the biggest elk you ever saw coming to the
spring. Well, I shot him, stranger, JUS
where he stood, an I doubt if he eyer saw
me. Together with thinkin' an drinkin' an
KILN Of the elk, an lookin' at him, / was
gone half hour or more, an when ] got back
to the house, an went into the barroom on
the way to bed-there was only two pms
there was the FrenchWoman, as | live, stran-
er, q lying in the corner, near the fireplace,
with her head split open with an ak, an the
ak ali blood was by her side. Pardner, my
hair raised, | tell you. Then I raised the
boys, an we tried to think who it was as
had done the deed. The other boys was .
whisperin' together an glancing at me, an
knew they suspicloned me, an I knew they'd
hang me up in a minniti if the suspicion took
fair holt, an | said, None Of that, boys
then I told. them as how it was about my
wakin' up, goin' to the spring, an about the
elk; an they went out an found twas SO;
then we suspicioned her Teller, the French
man, an we got him out an told him to
fess up, as he must pass in bis checks; but he
said he was innocent, an as how he thought
lots about her. In the mornin' we took hin
out to a fir tree near where the woman is
buried, and strung him up, an then let him
down again; but he stuck to It that he was
innocent, an we strung him up three times,
stranger, but he still stuck to it that he was
innocent, an we let him 60. No one ever
knew for certain who killed the French
woman, but we always suspicioned her fell
Ter. Well, the sheriff came down, an he
found $8, 900 in dust an money bid away in
her fre-place-they have got it boarded up
now-an' he said she had as much more in
the bank at Helena. But we buried her near
the fir tree where we had strung up her fel-
Ter, an put q little fence around to keep off
the coyotes, an there she is yet, an SO is the
tree an the fence. And that's WHY / hate to
put up there, stranger
He had finished, and sat silently looking
into the fire, and we all sat silently looking
into the fire, and q sensation Of chilliness
crept over me, intensified by the solitudes
and the indistinct reflections and shadows
created by the full grown moon On the now
weird landscape.
No more stories that night, but rolling into
our blankets were soon to sleep. | all the
time dreaming Of the Frenchwoman and her
tragic fate.
We broke camp next morning, after three
days spent in hunting and fishing, and pro-
ceeded along up the valley, again TO Cross the
Rocky mountain chain il one Of it's widest
passes. Just four miles, and there, amid the
desolation Of one Of Montana's by-ways, ~
ing lonesome and apart, upon a naked hill
lock, near by the stunted fir tree, which hum
med its mournful requiem in unending ca
dence, lay our heroine Of last nights story.
The rude fence still there doing duty as
guard from the only visitor, the coyote, and
as we pass q fleeing cloud casts its shadow
over the old house which was once her home
leaving q shadow on the memory wholly
unfeeting.
The pass by the Mullan road on the West
ward slope is by q gradual and at times i'm
p%erceptible rise, and il is by q slow and te-
dious drive along the narrow gulch Of five
hours, that the summit is at last reached.
The descent, however, is exciting and rapid,
and the wagon, despite the brake and rough
lock, slides down the steeproadWay in q man
ner% suggestive Of broken necks if, by 9 sin
gle %mischance, the braking apparatus should
give way. The road here wa through q
gloomy forest Of gigantic pines, their tops
over-arehing the path, and shutting out the
sun, and the white limestone Of the track
was worn into deep and dangerous ruts which
the %attrition of wheels had cut into it, but
making q white and plainly discernible road.