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Lonesome Dove


Lonesome Dove Cover

ISBN13: 9780684871226
ISBN10: 068487122x
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Chapter 1

When Augustus came out on the porch the blue pigs were eating a rattlesnake — not a very big one. It had probably just been crawling around looking for shade when it ran into the pigs. They were having a fine tug-of-war with it, and its rattling days were over. The sow had it by the neck, and the shoat had the tail.

"You pigs git," Augustus said, kicking the shoat. "Head on down to the creek if you want to eat that snake." It was the porch he begrudged them, not the snake. Pigs on the porch just made things hotter, and things were already hot enough. He stepped down into the dusty yard and walked around to the springhouse to get his jug. The sun was still high, sulled in the sky like a mule, but Augustus had a keen eye for sun, and to his eye the long light from the west had taken on an encouraging slant.

Evening took a long time getting to Lonesome Dove, but when it came it was a comfort. For most of the hours of the day — and most of the months of the year — the sun had the town trapped deep in dust, far out in the chaparral flats, a heaven for snakes and horned toads, roadrunners and stinging lizards, but a hell for pigs and Tennesseans. There was not even a respectable shade tree within twenty or thirty miles; in fact, the actual location of the nearest decent shade was a matter of vigorous debate in the offices — if you wanted to call a roofless barn and a couple of patched-up corrals offices — of the Hat Creek Cattle Company, half of which Augustus owned.

His stubborn partner, Captain W. F. Call, maintained that there was excellent shade as close as Pickles Gap, only twelve miles away, but Augustus wouldn't allow it. Pickles Gap was if anything a more worthless community than Lonesome Dove. It had only sprung up because a fool from north Georgia named Wesley Pickles had gotten himself and his family lost in the mesquites for about ten days. When he finally found a clearing, he wouldn't leave it, and Pickles Gap came into being, mainly attracting travelers like its founder, which is to say people too weak-willed to be able to negotiate a few hundred miles of mesquite thicket without losing their nerve.

The springhouse was a little lumpy adobe building, so cool on the inside that Augustus would have been tempted to live in it had it not been for its popularity with black widows, yellow jackets and centipedes. When he opened the door he didn't immediately see any centipedes but he did immediately hear the nervous buzz of a rattlesnake that was evidently smarter than the one the pigs were eating. Augustus could just make out the snake, coiled in a corner, but decided not to shoot it; on a quiet spring evening in Lonesome Dove, a shot could cause complications. Everybody in town would hear it and conclude either that the Comanches were down from the plains or the Mexicans up from the river. If any of the customers of the Dry Bean, the town's one saloon, happened to be drunk or unhappy — which was very likely — they would probably run out into the street and shoot a Mexican or two, just to be on the safe side.

At the very least, Call would come stomping up from the lots, only to be annoyed to discover it had just been a snake. Call had no respect whatsoever for snakes, or for anyone who stood aside for snakes. He treated rattlers like gnats, disposing of them with one stroke of whatever tool he had in hand. "A man that slows down for snakes might as well walk," he often said, a statement that made about as much sense to an educated man as most of the things Call said.

Augustus held to a more leisurely philosophy. He believed in giving creatures a little time to think, so he stood in the sun a few minutes until the rattler calmed down and crawled out a hole. Then he reached in and lifted his jug out of the mud. It had been a dry year, even by the standards of Lonesome Dove, and the spring was just springing enough to make a nice mud puddle. The pigs spent half their time rooting around the springhouse, hoping to get into the mud, but so far none of the holes in the adobe was big enough to admit a pig.

The damp burlap the jug was wrapped in naturally appealed to the centipedes, so Augustus made sure none had sneaked under the wrapping before he uncorked the jug and took a modest swig. The one white barber in Lonesome Dove, a fellow Tennessean named Dillard Brawley, had to do his barbering on one leg because he had not been cautious enough about centipedes. Two of the vicious red-legged variety had crawled into his pants one night and Dillard had got up in a hurry and had neglected to shake out the pants. The leg hadn't totally rotted off, but it had rotted sufficiently that the family got nervous about blood poisoning and persuaded he and Call to saw it off.

For a year or two Lonesome Dove had had a real doctor, but the young man had lacked good sense. A vaquero with a loose manner that everybody was getting ready to hang at the first excuse anyway passed out from drink one night and let a blister bug crawl in his ear. The bug couldn't find its way out, but it could move around enough to upset the vaquero, who persuaded the young doctor to try and flush it. The young man was doing his best with some warm salt water, but the vaquero lost his temper and shot him. It was a fatal mistake on the vaquero's part: someone blasted his horse out from under him as he was racing away, and the incensed citizenry, most of whom were nearby at the Dry Bean, passing the time, hung him immediately.

Unfortunately no medical man had taken an interest in the town since, and Augustus and Call, both of whom had coped with their share of wounds, got called on to do such surgery as was deemed essential. Dillard Brawley's leg had presented no problem, except that Dillard screeched so loudly that he injured his vocal cords. He got around good on one leg, but the vocal cords had never fully recovered, which ultimately hurt his business. Dillard had always talked too much, but after the trouble with the centipedes, what he did was whisper too much. Customers couldn't relax under their hot towels for trying to make out Dillard's whispers. He hadn't really been worth listening to, even when he had two legs, and in time many of his customers drifted off to the Mexican barber. Call even used the Mexican, and Call didn't trust Mexicans or barbers.

Augustus took the jug back to the porch and placed his rope-bottomed chair so as to utilize the smidgin of shade he had to work with. As the sun sank, the shade would gradually extend itself across the porch, the wagon yard, Hat Creek, Lonesome Dove and, eventually, the Rio Grande. By the time the shade had reached the river, Augustus would have mellowed with the evening and be ready for some intelligent conversation, which usually involved talking to himself. Call would work until slap dark if he could find anything to do, and if he couldn't find anything he would make up something — and Pea Eye was too much of a corporal to quit before the Captain quit, even if Call would have let him.

The two pigs had quietly disregarded Augustus's orders to go to the creek, and were under one of the wagons, eating the snake. That made good sense, for the creek was just as dry as the wagon yard, and farther off. Fifty weeks out of the year Hat Creek was nothing but a sandy ditch, and the fact that the two pigs didn't regard it as a fit wallow was a credit to their intelligence. Augustus often praised the pigs' intelligence in a running argument he had been having with Call for the last few years. Augustus maintained that pigs were smarter than all horses and most people, a claim that galled Call severely.

"No slop-eating pig is as smart as a horse," Call said, before going on to say worse things.

As was his custom, Augustus drank a fair amount of whiskey as he sat and watched the sun ease out of the day. If he wasn

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fdber, July 3, 2010 (view all comments by fdber)
Unless I am losing my mind, I am next to certain that there have been substantial revisions to at least one chapter in Lonesome Dove. I first read the book in 1989, as overwhelmed as most readers. In chapter 57 (present numbering), when Gus encounters the band of renegades/Indians who are holding Lorena, a gun fight ensues, with Gus taking shelter behind the horse that he slaughters for that purpose. However, in the version I read, Gus takes long range shots at the renegades, who are amused at the futility of it. One stands up to taunt him, convinced of his safety. Gus uses a land sight to shoot a mortar type bullet that hits him in the abdomen. The scene appears in that form in the miniseries. Ity is not a screewriter's invention - it tracks the version in the novel, at least the one I read.

I could certainly be in error, but the scene, as beautifully written as everything else in the book, was one of the signature scenes in the novel. I remember being struck by how close the film version tracked it. Can anyone help me here?
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Product Details

McMurtry, Larry
Simon & Schuster
Introduction by:
McMurtry, Larry
McMurtry, Larry
McMurtry, Larry
New York
Historical - General
Western stories
Cattle drives
General Fiction
Westerns - General
General Fiction
Pulitzer Prize, Lonesome Dove, American classic, classics, larry mcmurtry, Terms of Endearment, dead man s walk, masterpiece, love story, adventure, American epic, West, wild west, cowboys, outlaws, whores, Indians, settiers, American experience, cattle d
Pulitzer Prize, Lonesome Dove, American classic, classics, larry mcmurtry, Terms of Endearment, dead man s walk, masterpiece, love story, adventure, American epic, West, wild west, cowboys, outlaws, whores, Indians, settiers, American experience, cattle d
Pulitzer Prize, Lonesome Dove, American classic, classics, larry mcmurtry, Terms of Endearment, dead man s walk, masterpiece, love story, adventure, American epic, West, wild west, cowboys, outlaws, whores, Indians, settiers, American experience, cattle d
Pulitzer Prize, Lonesome Dove, American classic, classics, larry mcmurtry, Terms of Endearment, dead man s walk, masterpiece, love story, adventure, American epic, West, wild west, cowboys, outlaws, whores, Indians, settiers, American experience, cattle d
Edition Description:
Classic Edition
Simon & Schuster Classics
Series Volume:
Publication Date:
November 2000
Grade Level:
Rough Front
9.25 x 6.25 in 48.02 oz

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Related Subjects

Fiction and Poetry » Literature » A to Z
Fiction and Poetry » Westerns » General

Lonesome Dove New Hardcover
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$40.00 In Stock
Product details 864 pages Simon & Schuster - English 9780684871226 Reviews:
"Synopsis" by , A love story, an adventure, and an epic of the frontier, Larry McMurtrys Pulitzer Prize— winning classic, Lonesome Dove, the third book in the Lonesome Dove tetralogy, is the grandest novel ever written about the last defiant wilderness of America. Journey to the dusty little Texas town of Lonesome Dove and meet an unforgettable assortment of heroes and outlaws, whores and ladies, Indians and settlers. Richly authentic, beautifully written, always dramatic, Lonesome Dove is a book to make us laugh, weep, dream, and remember.
"Synopsis" by , Now the only edition available in hardcover, this version of "Lonesome Dove"--winner of the Pulitzer Prize--marks the 15th anniversary of McMurtry's masterpiece of the American West.
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