y? Y'll not offend his
daughter here? An' the dead can't defend themselves? An' y're all s'
verra delicate y're lettin' a stinkin' slanderous unclean unspoken
damnable hell-spawned lie go forth unchallenged t' blacken a dead man's
memory? Oh, A know y'r kind well! A've heard harlots lisp an' whisp'
an' half tell and damn by a lie o' th' eye! Y' are insinuatin' this
woman Calamity shot her master to avenge dishonor in her early life?
'Tis a lie! 'Tis a most damnable black an' filthy lie! She wud a'
died for MacDonald ten thousand times over if she could, because he had
long ago, before ever he came here, avenged _her_ dishonor."

The coroner had sprung back from the table. The mighty man of valor,
who defended law, had precipitately put the space of overturned benches
between himself and the irate old frontiersman. Matthews suddenly
swung to face the spectators.

"Men," he cried, "foul murder has been done; and this slander is t'
fasten guilt on a poor innocent outcast woman, t' send her a scapegoat
int' th' wilderness bearin' th' sins o' those higher up that A do na'
name; of y'r Man Higher Up, who is the curse o' this land! 'Twas in my
boyhood days on Saskatchewan! This woman, that y' have seen wander the
Black Hills sinnin' unashamed, was but a fair slip o' an Indian girl,
then, pure as y'r own girls in school! She married a little Indian
boy, Wandering Spirit o' the Crees at Frog Lake! The Indian Officer at
Frog Lake was a Sioux half-breed--he took her forcibly from Wandering
Spirit t' th' Agency House! 'Twas y'r sheep rancher, MacDonald, who
was fur trader then, went forcibly to th' Agency House, thrashed the
Agent, and brought her back to the Indian, Wandering Spirit! A was
passin' West by dog train to the Mountains when A stopped at the Agency
House! MacDonald had gone North. Little Wandering Spirit comes and
asks me t' interpret something he has to say t' th' Master--meanin'
that danged unclean Sioux beast. Says I, 'Wandering Spirit has
something not pleasant t' say t' you: Y' better get another
interpreter.' The officer says, 'Spit it out! Y' can't phase me.'
Boys, A spit it out. A gave it to him plain! The boy Indian stood in
the door o' th' Agency House holdin' a loaded dog-train whip hidden
behind his back. He was na' but half as big as the brute behind the
Government desk! He says, 'Tell the Master he must leave my wife
alone! If ever he comes near m' tepee again, A do to him like