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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"Where is Jake?" she asked.

"I don't know," Augustus said. "He wanted to come with me but I didn't want to put up with the scamp."

They rode until the afternoon, keeping close to the Canadian, which was high from the rains. Toward evening they topped a ridge and saw a surprising sight: four great herds of cattle, spread as far as one could see across the plain.

"River's stopped 'em," Augustus said. "They're all waiting for it to go down."

The cowboys were still a mile or more away, but Lorena began to shake at the sight of them. They were just more men.

"They won't hurt you, honey," Augustus said. "Likely they'll be more scared of you than you are of them. Most of them's probably forgot what a woman looks like."

Lorena fell back into her silence. She had nowhere else to go.

As they approached the nearest herd, a man galloped out to meet them.

"My lord, it's the man from Yale college, the one who read that Latin on my sign," Augustus said. "I recognize the horse. It's that nice bay we stole back from old Pedro just before he died."

Lorena didn't look at the man.

Wilbarger was as surprised as Augustus. He had seen two riders and supposed they were scouts for yet another herd. "By God, McCrae, you're a surprise," he said. "I thought you was three weeks behind me, and here you are attacking from the west. How far back is your herd, or do you have one?"

"As you can see, I ain't brought a cow," Augustus said. "Call may still have a herd of them if he ain't lost them or just turned them loose."

"If he would do that he's a fool, and he didn't act like a fool," Wilbarger said. "He wouldn't trade me that mare."

He tipped his hat to Lorena. "I don't believe I've met the young lady," he said.

"This is Miss Lorena Wood," Augustus said. "She had the misfortune to be abducted. Now I've abducted her back. We're short of grub and would like to purchase some if you have any to spare."

Wilbarger glanced once more at Lorena, who sat with her head down.

"I am not such a scoundrel as to sell grub," he said. "You're welcome to come to camp and eat with my tough bunch, if you can stand them."

"I doubt we could," Augustus said quietly. "We're both shy."

"Oh, I see," Wilbarger said, glancing at Lorena again. "I'm damn glad you don't have a herd. You'd think there'd be room enough for everybody on these plains, but as you can see, the view is crowding up. I was going to try a crossing today but I've decided to wait for morning."

He was silent a moment, considering the problem of their shyness.

"We're about to eat," he said. "It's a free country, so my advice to you would be to make camp where you choose. I'll borrow a pot from our cook and bring you some grub once you get settled."

"I'm much obliged," Augustus said. "Noticed a tree in these parts?"

"No, sir," Wilbarger said. "If there was a tree in these parts I'd be sitting under it."

They made camp on the plain. Wilbarger was as good as his word. In an hour he returned with a small pack mule. Besides an ample pot of beefsteak and beans he brought a small tent.

"I scarcely use this tent," Wilbarger said, dropping it by their campfire. "You're welcome to borrow it. The young lady might like a little privacy."

"I guess it's your training in Latin that's give you such good manners," Augustus remarked. "The sky's unpredictable and we would enjoy a tent."

"I also brought a bottle," Wilbarger said. "I seem to remember you're a drinking man."

As soon as the tent was up, Lorena went in. Gus spread her a pallet and she sat where she could watch him through the open flap. The men sat outside and drank.

"Had an easy trip?" Augustus asked.

"No, sir," Wilbarger said. "My foreman died, south of Fort Worth. I have another herd somewhere ahead of me, but I can't leave to go check on it. I don't know that I'll ever see it again, although I may."

"What'd he die off?" Augustus asked. "It's a healthy climate down that way."

"He died of a horse falling over backwards on him," Wilbarger said. "He would test the broncs."

"Foolish," Augustus said. "A grown man ought to have sense enough to seek gentle horses."

"Many don't," Wilbarger pointed out. "That mare Captain Call wouldn't trade me didn't look that gentle, yet he's a grown man."

"Grown, but not what you'd call normal," Augustus said. "I put it down to lack of education. If he'd been trained in Latin he'd most likely have let you have that horse."

"Do you consider yourself normal, then?" Wilbarger asked.

"Certainly," Augustus said. "I never met a soul in this world as normal as me."

"And yet here you sit, far out on the naked plain, with a shy woman you had to rescue," Wilbarger pointed out. "How many skunks did you have to kill in order to rescue her?"

"A passel," Augustus said. "I got the peons but the jefe got away. A bandit named Blue Duck, whom I'd advise you to give a wide berth unless you're skilled in battle."

"You think he's around? I've heard of the scamp."

"No, I think he's headed for the Purgatory River," Augustus said. "But then, I underestimated him once, which is why the lady got abducted. I'm out of practice when it comes to figuring out bandits."

"She's a little peaked, that girl," Wilbarger said. "You ought to take her back to Fort Worth. There's not much in the way of accommodations or medical care north of here."

"We'll ease along," Augustus said. "Where shall I return this tent?"

"I have business in Denver, later in the year," Wilbarger said. "That's if I live, of course. Send it over to Denver, if you have a chance. I don't use the dern thing much, but I might next winter, if I'm still out where it's windy."

"I'm enjoying this whiskey," Augustus said. "A man is foolish to give up the stable pleasure of life just to follow a bunch of shitting cattle."

"You have a point, and it's a point I've often taxed myself with," Wilbarger said. "If you're such a normal boy then how come you done it?"

"Unfinished business in Ogallala, Nebraska," Augustus said. "I'd hate to grow old without finishing it."

"I see," Wilbarger said. "Another shy lady who must have got abducted."

They drank until the bottle was empty.

"If you had two, I wish you'd brought two," Augustus said. "I need to get back in practice drinking."

"Well, if we don't get across that goddamn river tomorrow, I'll see if I can rustle up another one," Wilbarger said, standing up. "I seldom get conversation like yours. I can't figure out if I like it or not, but I will admit it's conversation, which is more than can be had in my camp.

He mounted his horse and was about to ride away.

"I'll send the cook over with some breakfast," he said. "By the way, you didn't cross the path of a young sheriff from Arkansas, did you? He's up this way somewhere, and I've been worried about him."

"You must be referring to July Johnson," Augustus said. "We left him four days ago. He was headed on north."

"Well, he had a funny crew with him. I was just a little uneasy," Wilbarger said. "I found him a likable man, but inexperienced."

"He's got more experience now," Augustus said. "Blue Duck killed his crew."

"Killed all three of them?" Wilbarger asked, startled. "I even offered that young boy a job."

"He should have took it," Augustus said. "We buried them west of here."

"That Duck must be a hard son of a bitch," Wilbarger said.

He sat on his horse a moment, looking into the night. "I had a feeling young Johnson was inexperienced," he said, and trotted off.

The next morning Wilbarger's old cook came over with some breakfast. It was a fine morning, the sun up and the plains well dried out. Augustus stepped out of the tent, but Lorena was content to look through the flaps.

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