Showing posts with label andy adams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label andy adams. Show all posts

Thursday, October 23, 2014

Andy Adams, Campfire Tales

William H. Hudson collected these 51 stories told by cowboys around the evening campfires in four books by Andy Adams (1859-1935): The Log of a Cowboy (1903), A Texas Matchmaker (1904), The Outlet (1905), and Cattle Brands (1906). 

By the rules of trail drive storytelling, they are factual, as actually happened, and without exaggeration. Storytellers were not allowed to be boastful or to be interrupted.

The collection makes for an entertaining read, as subject matter ranges over all sorts of topics, and stories are told with a certain cowboy attitude that brings them to colorful life.

Andy Adams, 1904
Among a few of my own favorites: 1) an account of a marathon of “bear sign” (i.e., doughnut) making, 2) Bat Masterson supervising a fractious crowd gathered for a public speaking event, 3) a case brought before Judge Roy Bean, 4) an explanation for why the Chisholm Trail forks as told to a gullible new man, and 5) a dispute between a disagreeable trail boss and his riders over the count of a herd.

First published in 1956 by the University of Texas Press, Andy Adams’ Campfire Tales was reissued in 1976 by the University of Nebraska Press, with an expanded and informative introduction. The book is currently available at amazon, Barnes&Noble, and AbeBooks. For more of Friday’s Forgotten Books, click on over to Patti Abbott’s blog.

Further reading/viewing:
BITS review, Andy Adams, The Outlet, Part 1, Part 2

Image credits: Adams’ photo, The Critic, 1904

Coming up: TBD


Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Andy Adams: western writer


Looking through a 1904 volume of The Critic, I came across this pic I'd never seen before of western writer Andy Adams (1859-1935). Best known for his cattle drive novel The Log of a Cowboy (1903), a source some argue for Larry McMurtry's Lonesome Dove. 

Adams advocated historical accuracy in writing about the Old West and, eschewing romance, never got the kind of following that his contemporary Owen Wister acquired. Adams' fine novel, The Outlet (1905), was reviewed here at BITS a while ago.

Coming up: Mary MacLane, The Story of Mary MacLane (1902)

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Book: The Outlet, part 3

Last time we considered the cowboy world of the characters in Andy Adams’ novel and the absence of women and romance. This time, after a look at how the novel regards nonwhites on the open range, we’ll wrap things up. Three of the images below are from the 1905 edition of the novel, by illustrator E. Boyd Smith. [As usual, click them for a larger pic.]

Diversity. Like other novels of this period, race has a way of showing up in the storyline. Along the way, Quirk and his men encounter two herds in trouble. One has an all-black crew with a “darky” foreman. They have become disorganized and are unable to take their herd across a river. The Texan cowpunchers, showing their Southern roots, opine that while blacks are good workers, “it ruins one to give them any authority” (p. 87). It takes a white man to get them to follow orders.
Something similar happens with a white rancher from Wyoming whose Mexican crew has come unglued when one of their compaƱeros gets killed by lightning. After a proper burial, the solution this time is to give the Mexicans a pep talk in Spanish and then have the white rancher travel with Quirk’s bunch. The point this time is that it takes a Texan to know how to handle Mexicans. Quirk makes the following observation:
The inferior races may lack in courage and leadership, but never in cunning and craftiness. This alien outfit had detected some weakness in the armor of their new employer, and when the emergency arose, were ready to take advantage of the situation. Yet under an old patron, these same men would never dare to mutiny or assert themselves (p. 168).
Although not liberally, the n-word gets used in the book. So does the word “white,” meaning trustworthy, intelligent, respectable, as we’ve seen before. Quirk’s boss Lovell says:
We’re strangers here, and we want to make a good impression, and show the public that we were born white, even if we do handle cattle for a living (p. 314).
A sand and dust storm struck us
On one occasion, the wrangler gets to talking about the ignorance of Cajuns. And on the subject of Indians, the cowpunchers make a distinction between the “civilized” tribes in Indian Territory and what they call “blanket Indians,” who stubbornly resist assimilation. Though the trail crosses through Indian Territory, they don’t encounter Indians until crossing the Niobrara in northern Nebraska.
This meeting is more or less cordial. The Indians, Lakota from Pine Ridge, are gathering and drying wild fruit. The cowboys share some tobacco with the men, and while Quirk considers them “tall, splendid specimens,” he finds the women “nearly all of one stature, short, heavy, and repulsive in appearance” (p. 244).
Wrapping up. Glancing back at Owen Wister, we notice that we’re in another kind of West. It’s a West of real working cowboys. The Virginian is never given a job as demanding as trailing a large herd of cattle for several months.
Outriding the flood by a close margin
The issue of character is a big one for both writers, but Wister’s cowboy hero faces a different kind of challenge. He has to outwit his nemesis Trampas and finally to face him in a gun duel. That shows a clever use of intelligence and the courage to risk being shot – and thereby proves his manhood.
The strength of Tom Quirk’s character lies in the intelligence and courage required to assume the responsibilities of a trail boss. Though there are villains in this story, they’re not lowly rustlers and horse thieves. They’re brazen crooks, with lawyers and powerful friends to stand up for them and do their dirty work. And unlike Trampas, they exist as shadowy figures we never see up close. There’s no dealing with them by intimidation (“Smile when you call me that”) or a gunfight at sundown.
Quirk’s worth as a man comes across also in the way he wins the trust of his employer and comes to his aid. When he and a partner attempt to prevent the rivals’ herds from getting to the Fort by the contracted delivery date, it’s all part of the job.
This involves some quick thinking and an ability to win friends and influence people. He knows how to build alliances with a few friendly drinks in the saloon. He has social skills that are never required of the Virginian, who seems often to get by on his good looks and boyish charm.
The hireling deputies plunged into the river
What we don’t learn from Adams is how all this manly character would fare in the company of an attractive, available woman. He doesn’t give us a clue. The story takes place in a world from which marriageable women have been banished. And Quirk seems perfectly happy with that.
True, there’s no opportunity for a tag-along sweetheart on a trail drive. But at the end, when his employer asks him to stay on in Dakota and manage his ranch, he accepts the job with only one reservation – that he’d prefer spending the winter in Texas, where the weather is warmer. Not because a sweetheart is waiting there for his return.
Finally, for the reader who wants to know about the real Old West, this is a novel that tries to tell it like it was. Adams wrote several other novels, and I hope to spend more time with them before I’m done.

Coming up: Eugene Manlove Rhodes

Monday, September 6, 2010

Book: The Outlet, part 2

Last week I talked about Andy Adams’ theme of how the Old West way of doing business was being subverted. Today, let’s look at what else is going on in this novel. [Photos from Library of Congress. As usual, click to enlarge.]

The other story. Like Adams’ earlier novel The Log of a Cowboy, we get to ride along on a summer-long cattle drive from Texas to the north. Much of the length of the novel is about the logistics of moving a large herd of cattle. And for plain historical value, the novel has a lot to contribute.
B&M Railroad, Dakota Territory, 1891
The railroads have gotten in on the action, and Texas drovers can have their cattle shipped by train to the Red River crossing into Indian Territory (Oklahoma). Prices for this service are steep, and in the novel’s opening scene, Lovell declines to do business with them.
Later, we learn that a derailment has caused the death and injury of many cattle being transported by rail. Stress caused by poor conditions of travel has also been the cause of shipping fever – these losses being absorbed by the cattlemen, not the railroads.
Branding cattle, 1891
Before leaving the home ground, a herd has to pass inspection of the local county inspector. Inspection served the chief purpose of making sure that the herd included no cattle belonging to someone else. The herd also had to be marked with a road brand – showing their current owner. There was a charge for this inspection, and Quirk the trail boss plays one county inspector off against another to get each to lower his fee.
Sometimes the story digresses to include something that comes straight from a cowhand’s storehouse of cow and horse knowledge. As Quirk’s herd starts out in West Texas, he discovers that the horses have ticks in their ears. He explains how this happens, the symptoms, and how to treat it (a preparation for blisters mixed with axle grease).
The westward spread of fenced-in settlements creates an obstacle in some places. Water is no longer freely available in these areas, and drovers find they have to pay to let their cattle drink. Some trails have been so heavily used that for a mile and more across there’s not a single blade of vegetation. They have to trail the herds far to one side or the other.
Beef issue to Indians, Pine Ridge, 1891
One river crossing in Dakota Territory gives them trouble. The banks are steep and hard to negotiate. Fifty or so head of cattle get stranded against one of them, and the cowboys have to strip down and plunge in to push them downstream to where they can climb out of the water.
Then cloudbursts in the mountains flood the river and the men get separated from the wagons. They have to go without food, and sleep without their bedrolls until the floodwaters recede.
Texas fever (carried by cattle ticks) shows up as a plot element as the herds reach the north. Montana ranchers have set up a quarantine area in the Power River basin to prevent herds from entering their state until after the first frost. Lovell’s herds pass to the east, through the Dakota Territory, so they get to the fort OK.
The crooks’ herds, however, take the Power River route out of Wyoming and get quarantined with the other waiting herds. Because the crooks have a government contract, they claim not to be bound by state regulations (damn that Washington), and after attempts to stop them, they get through. 
By the way, you can follow the entire trip on a map of the middle states that shows the many rivers they cross. Their route more or less follows the divide between the Central and Mountain time zones.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Book: The Outlet

Andy Adams
Andy Adams (1859-1935) is best known for his trail drive novel, The Log of a Cowboy (1903). The manager of the bookstore in Valentine, Nebraska, who sold me a copy of that book, said it was the original Lonesome Dove. If you put the two books side by side, you can see the similarity. [Photos of the open range today are from the Library of Congress. As usual, click to make larger.]

Adams had been a cowpuncher on trail drives and wrote from firsthand experience. He intended with his fiction to correct the romanticized view of the West being created by Owen Wister and others. He lost that battle, but as a recorder of the West that was, he left us a real goldmine of information and impressions.

The Outlet (1905) is another trail drive novel, and a sequel to The Log of a Cowboy. The narrator, Tom Quirk, is a young cowboy in his twenties who gets his first job as a trail boss. He’s in charge of one of three herds being driven in the summer of 1884 from west Texas to Fort Buford on the Missouri River, in Dakota Territory.

The year 1884, as Adams points out in the preface, came at the peak of the cattle drive era. According to Adams, nearly 800,000 cattle in 300 herds left Texas for points north in that year. Many herds went to cattle ranchers on the northern prairies. Many were sold to the government to supply beef for the frontier Army posts and the reservation Indians now that the buffalo were gone.

This enterprise, he says, required the labor of 4,000 drovers and the use of 30,000 horses. Meanwhile, the combined worth of all this beef on the hoof was in the millions.
Round up, Belle Fourche, Dakota Territory, 1887
Monetizing the West. Adams had a head for business, and what he brings to the trail drive novel is an understanding of how the cattle business worked in those years. While that business had boomed for ten years and some had made fortunes, the boom was about over. The market was beginning to weaken as demand became unable to keep up with the supply.
Cattle prices were dropping, and some sellers were having trouble finding buyers. Meanwhile, the scale of the cattle business had attracted get-rich-quick speculators who knew nothing about cattle. Among them were the unscrupulous and unprincipled. It was getting harder for an honest man to make a profit.