Larry McMurtry - Lonesome Dove

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Lonesome Dove, by Larry McMurtry, the author of Terms of Endearment, is his long-awaited masterpiece, the major novel at last of the American West as it really was.
A love story, an adventure, an American epic, Lonesome Dove embraces all the West – legend and fact, heroes and outlaws, whoeres and ladies, Indians and settlers – in a novel that recreates the central American experience, the most enduring of our national myths.
Set in the late nineteenth century, Lonesome Dove is the story of a cattle drive from Texas to Montana – and much more. It is a drive that represents for everybody involved not only a daring, even a foolhardy, adventure, but a part of the American Dream – the attempt to carve out of the last remaining wilderness a new life.
Agustus McCrae and W.F. Call are former Texas Rangers, partners and friends who have shared hardship and danger together without ever quite understanding (or wanting to understand) each other's deepest emotions. Gus is the romantic, a reluctant rancher who has a way with women and the sense to leave well enough alone. Call is a driven, demanding man, a natural authority figure with no patience for weaknesses, and not many of his own. He is obsessed with the dream of creating his own empire, and with the need to conceal a secret sorrow of his own. The two men could hardly be more different, but both are tough, redoubtable fighters who have learned to count on each other, if nothing else.
Call's dream not only drags Gus along in its wake, but draws in a vast cast of characters:
– Lorena, the whore with the proverbial heart of gold, whom Gus (and almost everyone else) loves, and who survives one of the most terrifying experiences any woman could have…
– Elmira, the restless, reluctant wife of a small-time Arkansas sheriff, who runs away from the security of marriage to become part of the great Western adventure…
– Blue Duck, the sinister Indian renegade, one of the most frightening villains in American fiction, whose steely capacity for cruelty affects the lives of everyone in the book…
– Newt, the young cowboy for whom the long and dangerous journey from Texas to Montana is in fact a search for his own identity…
– Jake, the dashing, womanizing ex-Ranger, a comrade-in-arms of Gus and Call, whose weakness leads him to an unexpected fate…
– July Johnson, husband of Elmira, whose love for her draws him out of his secure life into the wilderness, and turns him into a kind of hero…
Lonesome Dove sweeps from the Rio Grande (where Gus and Call acquire the cattle for their long drive by raiding the Mexicans) to the Montana highlands (where they find themselves besieged by the last, defiant remnants of an older West).
It is an epic of love, heroism, loyalty, honor, and betrayal – faultlessly written, unfailingly dramatic. Lonesome Dove is the novel about the West that American literature – and the American reader – has long been waiting for.

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"I could but I ain't about to," the old man said. "Scoot back if you're afraid of a little piss."

Blue Duck spread a blanket near the fire and began to roll dice on it. The Kiowas immediately got excited. Ermoke grabbed the dice and rolled them several times. Each of the Kiowas had a try, but Monkey John scoffed at their efforts.

"Them gut eaters can't throw dice," he said.

"You better be quiet," Blue Duck said. "Ermoke wouldn't mind frying your liver."

"He tries it and I'll blow a hole in him you could catch rain water through," Monkey John said.

"Let's gamble," Blue Duck said. "I ain't had a game in a while."

"Gamble for what?" Dog Face asked. "All I got is my gun and I'd be in pretty shape without that. Or my horses."

"Put up your horses then," Blue Duck said. "You might win."

Dog Face shook his head.

"I don't know much," Dog Face said. "But I know better than to bet my dern horses. There ain't nowhere to walk to from this Canadian that a man can get to on foot."

Yet an hour later he lost his horses to Blue Duck. Monkey John lost his on the first roll. Before long Blue Duck had won all the horses, though many of the Indians were so drunk they hardly seemed to know what was happening.

Blue Duck had a heavy, square face-he kept shaking the dice in his big hand. Sometimes he would play with a strand of his shaggy hair, as a girl would. Sometimes Lorena thought maybe she could grab a gun and shoot him-the men left their rifles laying around. But the gun hadn't worked when she tried to shoot Tinkersley, and if she tried to shoot Blue Duck and didn't kill him she would be in for it. She might be in for it anyway, though it seemed to her the men were scared of him too. Even Monkey John was cautious when Blue Duck was around. They might be glad to see him dead. She didn't try it. It was because she was so frightened of him that she wanted to, yet the same fright kept her from it.

"Well, now I've won the livestock," Blue Duck said. "Or most of it."

"Most of it, hell, you've won it all," Monkey John said. "We're stuck on this goddamn river."

"I ain't won the girl," Blue Duck said.

"A woman ain't livestock," Dog Face said.

"This one is," Blue Duck said. "I've bought and sold better animals than her many times."

"Well, she's ours," Monkey John said.

"She's just half yours," Blue Duck reminded him. "Ermoke and his boys own a half interest."

"We was aiming to buy them out," Dog Face said.

Blue Duck laughed his heavy laugh. "By the time you raise the money, there won't be much left to buy," he said. "You'd do better to buy a goat."

"Don't want no goddamn goat," Dog Face said. He was nervous about the turn the conversation was taking.

"Let's gamble some more," Blue Duck said, shaking the dice at Ermoke. "Bet me your half interest in the woman. If you win I'll let you have your horses back."

Ermoke shook his head, looking at Lorena briefly across the camp fire.

"No," he said. "We want the woman."

"Come on, let's gamble," Blue Duck said, a threatening tone in his voice. All the Kiowas looked at him. The two white men kept quiet.

The Kiowas began to argue among themselves. Lorena didn't understand their gabble, but it was clear some wanted to gamble and some didn't. Some wanted their horses back. Ermoke finally changed his mind, though he kept looking across the fire at her. It was as if he wanted her to know he had his plans for her, however the game turned out.

All the Kiowas finally agreed to gamble except one, the youngest. He didn't want it. He was skinny and very young-looking, no more than sixteen, but he was more interested in her than the rest. Sometimes, in the Kiowa camp, he had two turns, or even three. The older men laughed at his appetite and tried to distract him when he covered her, but he ignored them.

Now he balked. He didn't look up, just kept his eyes down and shook his head. The Kiowas yelled at him but he didn't respond. He just kept shaking his head. He didn't want to risk his interest in her.

"That damn chigger's holding up the game," Blue Duck said to Ermoke. He stood up and walked a few steps into the darkness. In a minute, they heard him making water. The Kiowas were still drinking whiskey. Now Ermoke was in the mood to gamble, and he reached over and shook the young man, trying to get him to agree, but the young man looked sullenly at the ground.

Suddenly there was a shot, startling them all, and the young man flopped backwards. Blue Duck stepped back into the firelight, a rifle in his hands. The Indians were speechless. Blue Duck sat down, the rifle across his lap, and rattled the dice again. The young Indian's feet were still in the light, but the feet didn't move.

"By God, life's cheap up here on the gaddamn Canadian," Monkey John said.

"Cheap, and it might get cheaper," Blue Duck said.

Then the gambling started again. The dead boy was ignored. In a few minutes Blue Duck had won her back-not only what the Indians owned but what the white men owned too. Dog Face didn't want to play, but he also didn't want to die. He played and lost, and so did Monkey John.

"I think you're a goddamn cheat," Monkey John said, drunk enough to be reckless. "I think you cheated me out of our horses, and now you've cheated us out of this woman."

"I don't want the woman," Blue Duck said. "You men can have her back as a gift, and your horses too, provided you do me one favor."

"I bet it's a hell of a big favor," Dog Face said. "What do you want us to do, attack a fort?"

Blue Duck chuckled. "There's an old man following me," he said. "He went west, but he'll be coming along one of these days. I want you to kill him.

"Hear that, Ermoke?" he added. "You can have your horses back, and the woman too. Just kill that old man. I hear he's coming down the river."

"I'd like to know who you hear it from?" Monkey John asked.

"He's been following me ever since I stole the woman," Blue Duck said. "He ain't no tracker, though. He went off across the Quitaque. But now he's figured it out and he'll be coming."

"By God, he must want her bad, to come all this way," Monkey John said.

"Kill him tomorrow," Blue Duck said, looking at Ermoke. "Take some of the horses and go find some help."

Ermoke was drunk and angry. "We do it," he said. "Then we take the woman."

"The hell you will," Dog Face said. "We're in on this and she's half ours, and you ain't taking her nowhere."

"You shut up, or I'll kill you like I killed that chigger," Blue Duck said.

"You get some help," he said again, looking at Ermoke. "I doubt you five can kill that old man."

"Hell, what is he?" Monkey John said. "Five against one's nice odds."

"These five can't shoot," Blue Duck said. "They can whoop and holler, but they can't shoot. That old man can."

"That makes a difference," Dog Face agreed. "I can shoot. If he gets past Ermoke, I'll finish him."

"Somebody better settle him," Blue Duck said. "Otherwise you'll all be dead."

The Kiowas stood up and drug the dead boy away. Lorena heard them arguing in the darkness. Blue Duck sat where he was, his rifle across his lap; he seemed half asleep.

Monkey John got up and came over to her. "Who is this old man?" he asked. "You got a husband?"

Lorena stayed in her silence. It infuriated Monkey John. He grabbed her by the hair and cuffed her, knocking her over. Then he grabbed a stick of wood and was about to beat her with it when Dog Face intervened.

"Put it down," he said. "You've beat her enough."

"Let her answer me then," Monkey John said. "She can talk. Duck says so."

Dog Face picked up his rifle. Monkey John still had the stick.

"You'd pull a gun on me over a whore?" Monkey John said.

"I ain't gonna shoot you but I'll break your head if you don't let her be," Dog Face said.

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