under eight foot of snow...
while l moved the herd 300 miles
south to try and save it.

Saved about half of it.
You were a little more
than a year old...

at the time
of the great Comanche raids.

We stood off 500
Plains lndians for nine days.

Petulant, Becky?
l think you better go on home.
See that Ching gets those birds.
Come here.
There's something
l ought to tell you.

Guess now is
as good a time as any.

You're going to have
every young buck...

west of the Missouri
around here trying to marry you,

mostly because
you're a handsome filly,

but partly because l own
everything in this country...

from here to there.
They'll think
you're going to inherit it.

Well, you're not.
l'm going to leave
most of it to...

well, to the nation, really,
for a park where no lumbermen
will cut down all the trees...

for houses with leaky roofs.
Nobody will kill all the beaver
for hats for dudes...

nor murder the buffalo
for robes.

What l'm going to give you
is a 500-cow spread...

on the upper Green River.
Now, that may not seem
like much,

but it's more than we had,
your mother and l.

Some folks are going
to say l'm doing all this...

so l can sit up
in the hereafter...

and look down
on a park named after me,

or that l was
disappointed in you,

didn't want you to get
all that money.

But the real reason, Becky,
is because l love you,