23

Margaret Parker’s Journal

Events of August 12–19, 1877
Dictated by Margaret Parker, transcribed by Claire Hamilton
Chambers Lodge
Black Hawk, Colorado

Hattie told Margaret we had read her journal and that she should start where it left off.

“Zeke. He knocked on my window. Told me there were a bunch of Pinkertons in the bunkhouse and they were going to take me in the morning. After midnight; we didn’t have much time. He told me to get together only what I needed and to wait for his signal. He was gone before I could ask what it would be.

“An hour later, I heard a scratch on my door. Zhu Li was outside. She stepped into my room and gave me a flour sack of food. She told me Callum was asleep by the fire and Zeke was waiting for me up on the stage road. I climbed out the window and made my way around the house. The fastest way to the road was by the bunkhouse.

“Drunk cowboys in the bunkhouse, one alone next to the barn, passed out. I’d shoved my hair in my hat and wore Callum’s coat. Stole the drunk’s whisky, tossed some on me, drank a swig, and decided to brazen it out. Walked like a man past the bunk just as two men walked out. Salter. Spoke to me, I kept going. Saw my face, yelled to raise the alarm. Pulled out my gun …” Garbled. “… Took off running.

“Lucky they were drunk, but thought I was done for. Horses would catch me before I made it halfway across the field. Heard yelling and running, but no horses. Scrabbled up the hill and found Zeke. Had Storm and another horse. Told him I think I shot Salter, begged him to go opposite direction as me so he wouldn’t be blamed. Said the bridles he stole would only buy us so much time, and we needed to go. Ten miles on we tossed the bridles hanging over our saddle horns into the brush.”

“That’s my boy,” Lana said.

“Rode up the Poudre River toward the park. Thought we were home free. Couldn’t go to the Hole, might lead them there .… though Salter knows .… needed Hattie. Suggested I hide in Black Hawk, send for you. Four days out, they find us south of the park. Don’t know how. Thought we covered our tracks.

“We were by Grand Lake. Stopped there to rest. Had ridden hard five days, horses almost done for. Zeke said might could trade at the Fraser post office, or somewhere along the way. Didn’t want to part with Storm, so I …” Garbled.

“We were on a ridge when Storm was shot out from under me. Threw me down the mountain, he followed. He broke his neck. I was knocked out.”

“He? He who?” Lana asked.

“Storm. My horse. Don’t think I was out too long, but I’m not sure. Zeke nowhere to be found. I couldn’t call out to him or they’d find me.

“I’m sorry, Lana.”

“Don’t you worry. Zeke’ll come through. He’s some smart, that kid.”

“I hope they think I’m dead. Doc thinks I’ll soon be dead anyways.”

“You didn’t walk here from Grand Lake, did you?”

“Made it to Fraser, caught a ride back to Idaho Springs with a teamster delivering mail and supplies. I don’t remember the man who brought me here.

“I’m so tired. Tomorrow I die. It’s the only way …”