The Last Sunset Page #4

Good.

She can ride herd on the remuda.

Give us another hand for the cattle.

My daughter's a lady.

A Southern lady.

If I'm trail boss,

my word goes

when it comes to running

the cattle, is that right?

Well, whatever you say.

We're ready to go.

Melissa.

We'll see how Milton's

doing with the herd.

Fine, Papa.

Mrs. Breckenridge,

it's not often I interfere

in somebody else's business,

but this is one of the

times I think I should.

O'Malley's a killer,

and as soon as he crosses the border

into Texas, I'm gonna see that he hangs.

Until then, my advice to you is to

keep your door locked when he's around.

He can't tell

one female from another.

And he don't care much,

either.

Please,

don't cause trouble.

Why did you say those things

about Mr. O'Malley?

Because they're true.

I'm not a child, Mr. Stribling. I'm

perfectly able to take care of myself.

It won't happen again.

It's a nice night,

isn't it?

Miss out on the nights,

you miss half your life.

Are you a killer?

Now, why do you

ask me that?

What they say.

Well, when you come right down to it,

all men in their hearts are killers.

But that's wrong.

Maybe it is.

I don't know.

When a man kills,

it means God let him,

because God could stop him

if he wanted to, couldn't he?

I don't understand.

Well, you asked

if I'm a killer,

I'm trying to tell you it's

not an easy question to answer,

but I have killed.

But you didn't

want to, did you?

No.

Do you like God?

Do you like God?

Well, of course, but...

I don't know him really.

Do you? Part of him.

Someday I'm going to

know all of him.

Oh, not all of him, Missy. That'd

be too much for anyone to know.

It would blind you.

Just learn to know rocks and

trees and stars and sunlight.

They're all

part of God, too.

Learn to know the sea.

I will when we

get to California.

Good. Find yourself a nice big boulder

with the waves breaking against it.

Look deep. Dream of

seahorses and they'll come.

Not many people know of it,

not many people care,

but the sea is a place where the seamen

shoe the hooves of the wild sea-mare.

Not many people have seen it,

nor caught the faintest gleam of the

ice-green cave in the deep green sea

in the heart of

the cold sea-stream,

where the sea-mare hides her young

sea-colt wrapped in a shy sea-dream.

But practically all of the

people known can absolutely say

that the foam on the sea is a sign that

you see the mare and her colt at play.

Oh, I like that.

Did you make that up?

A drunk made that up,

sitting in a saloon

in Bents Fort, Colorado.

Give him a subject, he'd write a verse.

"One free drink, one free verse. "

That must've been a part

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