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CHAPTER 9
biding his time, when Wilbarger rode up. Biding his time seemed to him the friendly
thing to do, inasmuch as Jake Spoon had ridden a long way and had likely been scared to seek out womankind during his
trip. Jake was one of those men who seemed to stay in rut the year round, a great source of annoyance to Call, who was
never visibly in rut. Augustus was subject to it, but, as he often said, he wasn’t going to let it drive him like a mute—a low
joke that still went over the heads of most of the people who heard it. He enjoyed a root, as he called it, but if conditions
weren’t favorable, could make do with whiskey for lengthy spells. It was clear that with Jake just back, conditions
wouldn’t be too favorable that afternoon, so he repaired to his jug with the neighborly intention of giving Jake an hour or
two to whittle down his need before he followed along and tried to interest him in a card game.
Wilbarger of course was
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Lonely Dove CHAPTER 10
The minute they crossed the river the Captain struck southeast in a long trot, and in no time the land darkened and they were riding by moonlight, still in a long trot. Since he had never been allowed in Mexico, except once in a while in one of the small villages down the river when they were buying stock legitimately, he didn’t really know what to expect, but he hadn’t expected it to be quite so dark and empty. Pea Eye and Mr. Gus were always talking about how thick the bandits were, and yet the seven of them rode for two hours into country that seemed to contain nothing except itself. They saw no lights, heard no sounds—they just rode, across shallow gullies, through thinning chaparral, farther and farther from the river. Once in a while the Captain stepped up the pace and they traveled in a short lope, but mostly he stuck with the trot. Since Mouse had an easy trot and a hard lope, Newt was happy with the gait.
Lonely Dove CHAPTER 11
“Probably all Texas horses anyway,” Augustus said. “Probably had enough of Mexico.” “I’ve had enough of it and I just got here,” Jake said, lighting his smoke. “I never liked it down here with these chili- bellies.” “Why, Jake, you should stay and make your home here,” Augustus said. “That sheriff can’t follow you here. Besides, think of the women.” “I got a woman,” Jake said. “That one back in Lonesome Dove will do me for a while.” “She’ll do you, all right,” Augustus said. “That girl’s got more spunk than you have.” “What would you know about it, Gus?” Jake asked. “I don’t suppose you’ve spent time with her, a man your age.” “The older the violin, the sweeter the music,” Augustus said. “You never knowed much about women.” Jake didn’t answer. He had forgotten how much Gus liked argument. “I guess you think all women want you to marry them and build ’em a house and raise five or six brats,” Augustu
Lonely Dove CHAPTER 12
The small herd had already been penned, and he and Deets and the man called Chick were quietly separating out horses with the H I C brand on them. Dish Boggett worked the gate between the two corrals, letting Wilbarger’s horses run through and waving his rope in the face of those he didn’t claim. Jake Spoon was nowhere in sight, nor was there any sign of Augustus and the Irishmen. The new herd was far too large to pen. Call had always meant to fence a holding pasture for just such an eventuality, but he had never gotten around to it. In the immediate case it didn’t matter greatly; the horses were tired from their long run and could be left to graze and rest. After breakfast he would send the boy out to watch them. Wilbarger paused from his work a moment to look at the stream of horses trotting past, then went back to his cutting, which was almost done. Since there was already enough help in the pen, there was nothing fo
Lonely Dove CHAPTER 13
She had been sitting at a table expecting Dish Boggett to come back with another two dollars he had borrowed somewhere. It was an expectation that brought her no pleasure. It was clear Dish expected something altogether different from what the two dollars would buy him. That was why, in general, she preferred older men to young ones. The older ones were more likely to be content with what they paid for; the young ones almost always got in love with her, and expected it to make a difference. It got so she never said a word to the young men, thinking that the less she said the less they would expect. Of course they went right on expecting, but at least it saved her having to talk. She could tell Dish Boggett was going to pester her as long as he could afford to, and when she heard boot heels and the jingle of spurs on the porch she assumed it was him, coming back for a second round. Instead, Jake had walked in. Lippy gave
Lonely Dove CHAPTER 14
“Where’s Call?” Jake asked when he got to the porch. “You didn’t expect to find Woodrow Call sitting in the shade, did you?” Augustus asked. “That man was born to work.” “Yes, and you was born to talk too much,” Jake said. “I need to borrow ten dollars.” “Oh?” Augustus said. “Has Lorie upped her rates?” Jake ignored the question, which was only meant to rile him, and reached for the jug. “No, the girl’s as generous as a preacher’s widow,” Jake said. “She wouldn’t take money from a gentleman like me. I hope she charged you plenty, though, for I know you’ve been there before me.” “I’ve always tried to keep a step ahead of you, Jake,” Augustus said. “But to answer your question, Call’s gone to round up a dern bunch of cowboys so we can head out for Montana with a dern bunch of cows and suffer for the rest of our lives.” “Well, dern,” Jake said. “I admit I was a fool to mention it.” He settled himself on the
Lonely Dove CHAPTER 15
BY THE END of the first day’s hiring, Call had collected four boys, none of them yet eighteen. Young Bill Spettle, the onethey called Swift Bill, was no older than Newt, and his brother Pete only a year older than Bill. So desperate were theirfamily circumstances that Call was almost hesitant to take them.The widow Spettle had a brood of eight children, Bill and Pete being the oldest. Ned Spettle, the father of them all, haddied of drink two years before. It looked to Call as if the family was about to starve out. They had a little creek-bottomfarm not far north of Pickles Gap, but the soil was poor and the family had little to eat but sowbelly and beans. The widowSpettle, however, was eager for him to take the boys, and would hear no protest from Call. She was a thin woman withbitter eyes. Call had heard from someone that she had been raised rich, in the East, with servants to comb her hair andhelp
Lonely Dove CHAPTER 16
BY THE TIME Jake Spoon had been in Lonesome Dove ten days, Lorena knew she had a job to do—namely the job ofholding him to his word and making sure he took her to San Francisco as he had promised to do.Of course Jake had not given her any direct notice that he intended to do differently. He moved in with her immediatelyand was just as pleasant about everything as he had been the first day. He had not taken a cent of money from her, andthey seldom passed an hour together without him complimenting her in some way—usually on her voice, or her looks, orthe fine texture of her hair, or some delicacy of manner. He had a way of appearing always mildly surprised by her graces,and if anything his sentiments only grew warmer as they got to know one another better. He repeated several times hisdismay at her having been stuck for so long in a dismal hole like Lonesome Dove.But after a week, Lorena became a
Lonely Dove CHAPTER 17
AUGUSTUS RODE BACK to camp a little after sunset, thinking the work would have stopped by then. The cattle were beingheld in a long valley near the river, some five miles from town. Every night Call went across the river with five or six handsand came back with two or three hundred Mexican cattle—longhorns mostly, skinny as rails and wild as deer. Whateverthey got they branded the next day, with the part of the crew that had rested doing the hard end of the work. Only Callworked both shifts. If he slept, it was an hour or two before breakfast or after supper. The rest of the time he worked, andso far as anyone could tell the pace agreed with him. He had taken to riding the Hell Bitch two days out of three, and themare seemed no more affected by the work than he was.Bolivar had not taken kindly to being moved to a straggly camp out in the brush, with no dinner bell to whack or crowbarto whack it with. He kept his ten-gauge n
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