A Vaquero of Brush Country by Frank Dobie

 

And in 1878 there were sights in Fort Griffin. Established eleven years before as an outpost against Indians, it became soon after the battle of Adobe Walls, June 27th, 1874, headquarters for thousands of butchers engaged in annihilating the “southern herd” of American bison and also for cow men and cowboys engaged in establishing ranches on the vast ranges that the slaughter of the buffalo and the attendant subjugation of the Indians were leaving vacant. I have seen Hells Half Acre in Fort Worth but here was Hells Half Hundred Acres. It was beyond all odds the worst hole that I have ever been in. The population at this time was perhaps five thousand people, most of them soldiers, gamblers, cow thieves, horse thieves, murderers, wild women, Buffalo hunters, altogether the most mongrel and the hardest-looking crew that it was possible to assemble. The fort proper and the big store were up on a hill. The sights were down under the hill and the flats where every house was either a saloon, a gambling den, or a dance hall, generally all three combined. No man who valued his life would go here unarmed or step out alone into the darkness. If about daylight he walked down to the river he might see a man hanging from one of the cottonwood trees with a placard on his back saying, “Horse Thief #8”-- or whatever the latest number was.

Written in 1929, this is a collection of reminisces from cattleman-rancher John Young.

It is full of incident, shenanigans, tragedy, and insight.

It may be non-fiction but those who are fans of McMurtry and the historically accurate Benjamin Capps will likely find a lot to love about this volume.

It is clear many a fine fiction writer delved into such volumes.

Nothing dry about this tale.

Nonfiction that reads like a raconteur having his way around a campfire.

Whispering Wind: A Thriller Icon’s Only Western

The Day of the Jackal, The Odessa File, The Dogs of War, The Fourth Protocol, these are only a few of the volumes written by Frederick Forsythe and then turned into film.

He offers his only Western “Whispering Wind” as a novella in his volume of short stories collectively titled The Veteran.

It was nine in the morning and already burning hot. They had been riding for three hours. General Custer liked to break camp early. But already the scout could smell the whiskey on the breath of the man beside him. It was bad frontier whiskey and the smell was rank, stronger than the perfume of the wild plum, cherry and the torrents of rambling dog roses that grew in such profusion along the banks to give Rosebud Creek its name.

So how is this work?

That is a tough one to answer without spoilers.

We begin with scout Ben Craig who has been reputed by some to be the only survivor of The Battle of Little Bighorn.

The lead-up, battle-scenes and aftermath are provided in Forsythe’s trademark well-researched forensic detail. This reader found this section of the novel fascinating.

Then somewhere in the middle, Forsythe provides a plot twist that I never saw coming. I cannot mention anything from this section without spoiling it for potential readers.

It is fair to say, it resembles L ’Amour’s Last of the Breed but with a twist. We’ll leave it at that.

I found the first half of the novel exceptional and the second half, while not necessarily my cup of tea, still of interest.

Well worth a read for many.

You’ll know at the “twist” whether to plunge on.

It is a wild one.

“I-80 M. 490-M.205” by John Sayles

 

“Ahh, copy you, Roadrunner, she's been clean all the way from that Grand Island town, so motormotor.”

[A moving van accelerates.]

“How about that Roadrunner, this is Overload up to 424, that you behind me?”

[The vans headlights blink up and down.]

“Well come on up, buddy, let's put the hammer down on this thing.”

The voices are nasal and tinny, broken by squawks, something human squeezed through wire. A decade of televised astronauts gives them their style and self importance.

We have a rare short story from screenwriter, John Sayles, the excellent film Lone Star being just one sample of his Western work.

This was written in 1975 for The Atlantic magazine; conceived in the midst of America’s CB radio fad.

A pop culture boom that brought us Trucker-as-Cowboy stories in film and song and spawned many a non-trucker to install a radio in their vehicle, spawn a handle, hit the highway and see who had their ears on.

This story told almost exclusively in CB jargon, mixed with screenplay bullet points for action and forays back into standard prose is more than a pop culture curiosity.

Sayles’ tale is darker. We have a voice out there in the midst of the chatter that is up to no good—one intent on darker things.

The story of the Voice and how truckers attempt to figure out who or why this voice is doing what they are doing is mighty intriguing.

The story has a bit of that 1971 film Vanishing Point’s existentialist vibe to it.

All in all, an interesting story—creative in premise and creative in execution.

First Command by Wade Everett

 

These men were brothers; Travis could see the common whelping stamped on them. Ben Arness said, “This is Pete Rink. His brother, Oney.”

“Hidey,” the other one said.

“The woman is their wife,” Arness said. “Name’s Esther.”

“Their wife?” Travis said.

“She be,” Owney Rink said. “Pete and me shared the same breast as little yonkers. Somehow we never lost the habit of sharin’.” He looked at Travis as though he expected him to make something out of it, because others had. “Wimmin is scarce out here. Esther’s satisfied. So’re we. If you don't like it, ride on. Got no use for the army anyway.”

“Me neither,” Pete Rink said.

This brief novel [142 pages] is a marvel.

Essentially a cavalry procedural in which Lieutenant Jefferson Travis receives his first command and commits to doing the right thing come hell or high water.

Everett was a nom de plume for Will Cook, himself a former US Cavalry veteran, among many other things in a colorful and eventful life.

That real-world experience shows here.

While written as a formulary Western, this novel exceeds that formula.

Men and women both are more than the surface characteristics that we usually see, where lesser authors use a character trait or two to serve as “color” while they push pawns around the plot.

Everett’s humans are real, not all good, not all bad—but when they are bad, they are as bad as it gets.

The novel is full of incident, full of characters second guessing where lesser novels behave in foregone conclusive manners.

Having not read Cook in his Everett guise before I don’t know if my evaluation of this novel is because I was taken by surprise or because it actually is a superior piece of Western art.

I lean heavily on the latter.

142 pages of real men, real women experiencing tragedy, loss, heartache, disappointment, and enjoying a small [often very small] redemption here and there.

A novel written by a man with real world experience for adults who know the world ain’t black and white.

This novel earns an easy A+.

The Californians “One Ton of Peppercorn”

 

Let’s take a look at a single episode from this NBC series that ran its first season in 1957 and its second in 1959.

The first season followed Dion Patrick [Adam Kennedy] an Irishman news reporter in Gold Rush era San Francisco.

The second season switched protagonists and followed Sherriff Matthew Wayne [Richard Coogan] in the same setting.

Our episode choice is from the 1959 Coogan season.

The story is brisk, the narrative a bit simplistic, and Coogan is a bit, well, bland. Serviceable but bland.

The interest here is in the pre-fame guest star, James Coburn playing Coogan’s country cousin.

Coburn is exuberant and of interest, to me at least due to my day job, of using the unusual fighting technique of “Ramming.”

It is portrayed for laughs but t ’was indeed a real specialty of some fighting men.

Coburn and brevity made the time pass, but not much to really prod further viewing based on this single episode.

Dutch Uncle by Marilyn Durham

 

For my grandmother,

who always liked a good clean story

But mostly for my mother,

who doesn't—

[The book’s epigraph.]

And now our offered excerpt.

“What do you do now?” It was Carrie asking.

Jake turned in surprise. Several sharp answers sprang to his mind, but he put them away. “I play poker,” he said simply.

She gave a ladylike sniff of disapproval. “That isn't an occupation; It's a vice.”

 He smiled. “Miss Hand, you’re right, as far as most people are concerned. Many are called and few are chosen, the preachers say. I'm one of the few. I get by, and I don't take anything from people except what they want to give me-- like those preachers.” He touched his hat brim turned and finished the motion with an imperious gesture.

As you read the above exchange one can envision the rascally charm of Jim Garner delivering it with a twinkle in his eye.

Our protagonist, Jake Hollander, seems molded on the faux cynical yet reluctantly good-hearted Maverick character.

The author plays this game well.

This 1973 novel is Durham’s follow-up to her debut Western The Man Who Loved Cat Dancing.

This is a less serious novel than that affair, but it is well-written with an easy gregariousness that is not afraid to allow a tragic moment or two to leaven the proceedings.

All in all, a strong novel, well worth the serious Western reader’s attention.

The Dakotas: The Episode That Led to Immediate Cancellation

 

Disclosure: I was not aware of this single-season 1963 series until I read about the controversy over this single episode.

This ABC adult Western dealt with Marshall Frank Ragan [Larry Ward] an actor unfamiliar to me till this show—he’s quite good, a laid-back Bogart vibe.

Ragan is accompanied by his deputies, Vance Porter [played by an amiable Michael Green], Del Stark [a young energetic Chad Everett], and J.D. Smith—played by Jack Elam. Elam is a revelation; I had only known him for his semi-comic sidekick work. Here he is damned effective as a laconic lawman who can stare a man down without giggle or smile proffered. He’s very very good here.

On to the episode and the controversy.

The episode in question is titled, “Sanctuary at Crystal Springs.” It was written by Cy Chermak and directed by Richard Sarafian.

The script and the staging are the stars here. We open directly into a siege followed by unexpected outcomes with hostages—I won’t spoil it, I will just say that I was surprised at how far the margins were pushed for a 1963 series airing at 7:30 PM.

We wind up inside a church for further incident.

The story is one of violence, faith [the word “atheist” is bandied about a good bit], and the necessity of “what must be done.”

Whether it was the violence or the faith-issues that led to the outcry, or a bit of both is debatable.

Needless to say, only one additional episode was aired, with another already in the can left unseen.

So, the show itself—Is it any good?

In a word-Yes.

In more words—It is excellent!

I will seek further episodes and lament the loss of what may very well have been a classic.

It is mature, well-played, and quite well-staged. [Sarafian would go on to lens the iconic 70’s film Vanishing Point.]

This single episode stands head and shoulders above most predictable fare of the time [and ours.]