This legend, though it cannot be said to be retold in his exact words,
came to me from a wood-cutter named T. W. Williams, who while hauling
wood about the streets of Austin had time enough to stop and talk.
Out in the hills of Williamson County, a certain old path can still be
found leading down to the San Gabriel River. If you follow the ancient
path from the west bank of the Gabriel for a distance of some two
hundred yards, you will find there on the hill the remains of the old
Lazy J ranch house. If you follow the path from the east bank, you will
soon come to its end among the rock-strewn hills. Years ago a foot-log
connected the parts of the path, and at it in days now long past a man
and a beautiful young woman were accustomed to meet. The girl came from
the ranch house on the hill, and the man, a cowboy, came from somewhere
out beyond the trail’s end, no one now knows where.
A little before sunset one evening, the girl walked down to the
crossing to meet her lover. A few minutes later the cowboy sprang from
his horse on the opposite bank, and, scarcely waiting to tie his mount,
started across the foot-log. The ride had been long, and the man was
unsteady on his feet after being for such a long while in the saddle.
He wore heavy leggins and Mexican spurs, and in his haste he lost his
footing on the log and fell into the river. He was never again seen.
The sight of the tragedy and the loss of her lover caused the maiden to
become, as people believed, insane. Every evening at sunset throughout
the remaining days of her life, she went to the foot-log to meet a
phantom lover who came, as in life, to meet her. Her dying request was
that if she lived until sunset, she should be carried to the bank of
the stream. This request was complied with, and her attendants, on
reaching the spot, witnessed a strange and pathetic ritual. The dying
woman raised herself on her elbow and spoke a few words to the
invisible lover, and then fell back lifeless on the stretcher. They
buried her there by the foot-path, and the good folk will tell you yet
that at dusk you can hear the lovers as they whisper by the path, or
that sometimes in the coming shadows you can see the phantom woman
drooped and waiting at the place where the foot-log used to be. [114]