mor, is due to enjoy
some things He'll have to punish.

I found peace, I found wealth, yes, and found something more thar in the
wilderness. Sweet as the cactus forest in blossom down Salt River is
that big memory.

It was after I'd found the things of happy solitude. I'd gone to work
then for the Bar Y outfit, breaking the Lightning colts. We was out a
few weeks from home, taking an outfit of ponies as far as the Mesa
Abaho, and one night camped at the very rim-rock of the Grand Canyon. The
Navajo Indians was peevish, the camp dry, grass scant, herd in a raffish
mood, and night come sudden.

I'd just relieved a man to get his supper, and rode herd wide alert. I
scented the camp smoke, saw the spark of fire glow on the boys at rest,
and heard their peaceful talk hushed in the big night. They seemed such
triflin' critters full of fuss since dawn, so small as insects at the
edge of nothin', while for miles beneath us that old, old wolfy Colorado
River was playing the Grand Canyon like a fiddler plays a fiddle. But the
river in the canyon seemed no more than a trickle in a crack, hushed by
the night, while overheard the mighty blazing stars--point, swing, and
drive, rode herd on the milky way. And that seemed no more than cow-boys
driving stock. Would God turn His head to see His star herds pass, or
notice our earth like some lame calf halting in the rear?

And what am I, then?

That was my great lesson, more gain to me than peace and wealth of mind,
for I was humbled to the dust of earth, below that dust of stars. So as
a very humble thing, not worth praying for, at least I could be master
of myself. I rode no more for wages, but cut out my ponies from the
Lightning herd, mounted my stud horse William, told the boys good-by at
Montecello, and then rode slowly north into the British possessions. So
I come at last to this place, an old abandoned ranch. There's none so
poor in dollars as to envy ragged Jesse, or rich enough to want to rob
my home. They say there's hidden wealth whar the rainbow goes to
earth--that's whar I live.

PART II

CHAPTER I

TWO SHIPS AT ANCHOR

_Kate's Narrative_

My horse was hungry, and wanted to get back to the ranch. I was hungry
too, but dared not go. I had left my husband lying drunk on the kitchen
floor, and when he woke up it would be worse than that.

For miles I had followed the edge of the bench lands, searching for the
place, for the right place, some point w