Lonesome Dove

by Larry McMurtry

  It was the squeal that caught Call's attention. After loading the heavy oak water barrel, he and Augustus had stepped back into the store a minute. Augustus was contemplating buying a lighter pistol to replace the big Colt he carried, but he decided against it. He carried out some of the things he had bought for Lorena, and Call took a sack of flour. They heard the horse squeal while they were still in the store, and came out to see Dixon quirting Newt, as Dish Boggett's mare turned round and round. Two cowboys lay on the ground, one of them Dish.

  "I thought that son of a bitch was a bad one," Augustus said. He pitched the goods in the wagon and drew his pistol.

  Call dropped the sack of flour onto the tailgate and quickly swung onto the Hell Bitch.

  "Don't shoot him," he said. "Just watch the soldiers."

  He saw Dixon again savagely quirt the boy across the back of the neck, and anger flooded him, of a kind he had not felt in many years. He put spurs to the Hell Bitch and she raced down the street and burst through the surprised soldiers. Dixon, intent on his quirting, was the last to see Call, who made no attempt to check the Hell Bitch. Dixon tried to jerk his mount out of the way at the last minute, but his nervous mount merely turned into the charge and the two horses collided. Call kept his seat and the Hell Bitch kept her feet, but Dixon's horse went down, throwing him hard in the process. Sugar nearly trampled Newt, trying to get out of the melee. Dixon's horse struggled to its feet practically underneath Sugar. There was dust everywhere.

  Dixon sprang up, not hurt by the fall, but disoriented. When he turned, Call had dismounted and was running at him. He didn't look large, and Dixon was puzzled that the man would charge him that way. He reached for his pistol, not realizing he still had the quirt looped around his wrist. The quirt interfered with his draw and Call ran right into him, just as his horse had run into Dixon's horse. Dixon was knocked down again, and when he turned his head to look up he saw a boot coming at his eye.

  "You wouldn't," he said, meaning to tell the man not to kick, but the boot hit his face before he could get his words out.

  The six soldiers, watching, were too astonished to move. The small-seeming cowman kicked Dixon so hard in the face that it seemed his head would fly off. Then the man stood over Dixon, who spat out blood and teeth. When Dixon struggled to his feet, the smaller man immediately knocked him down again and then ground his face into the dirt with a boot.

  "He's gonna kill him," one soldier said, his face going white. "He's gonna kill Dixon."

  Newt thought so too. He had never seen such a look of fury as was on the Captain's face when he attacked the big scout. It was clear that Dixon, though larger, had no chance. Dixon never landed a blow, or even tried one. Newt felt he might get sick just seeing the way the Captain punished the man.

  Dish Boggett sat up, holding his head, and saw Captain Call dragging the big scout by his buckskin shirt. The fight had carried a few yards down the street to a blacksmith shop with a big anvil sitting in front of it. To Dish's astonishment, the Captain straddled Dixon and started banging his head against the anvil.

  "He'll kill him," he said out loud, forgetting that a few moments before he too had wanted to kill the scout.

  Then he saw Augustus run over, mount the Hell Bitch, and take down Call's rope.

  Augustus trotted the few steps to the blacksmith shop and dropped a loop over Call's shoulders. Then he turned the horse away, took a wrap around the saddle horn, and began to ride up the street. Call wouldn't turn loose of Dixon at first. He hung on and dragged him a few feet from the anvil. But Augustus kept the rope tight and held the horse in a walk. Finally Call let the man drop, though he turned with a black, wild look and started for whoever had roped him, not realizing who the man was. The skin was torn completely off his knuckles from the blows he had dealt Dixon, but he was lost in his anger and his only thought was to get the next assailant. It was in him to kill — he didn't know if Dixon was dead, but he would make sure of the next man.

  "Woodrow," Augustus said sharply, as Call was about to leap for him.

  Call heard his name and saw his mare. Augustus walked toward him, loosening the rope. Call recognized him and stopped. He turned to look at the six soldiers, all on their horses nearby, silent and white-faced. He took a step toward them, and threw the rope off his shoulders.

  "Woodrow!" Augustus said again. He took out his big Colt, thinking he might have to hit Call to stop him from going for the soldiers. But Call stopped. For a moment, nothing moved.

  Augustus dismounted and looped the rope over the saddle horn. Call was still standing in the street, getting his breath. Augustus walked over to the soldiers.

  "Get your man and go," he said quietly.

  Dixon lay by the anvil. He had not moved.

  "Reckon he's dead?" a sergeant asked.

  "If he ain't, he's lucky," Augustus said.

  Call walked down the street and picked up his hat, which had fallen off. The soldiers rode slowly past him. Two dismounted and began to try to load Dixon on his horse. Finally all six dismounted — the man was so heavy it took all of them to get him up and draped over his horse. Call watched. At the sight of Dixon, his anger threatened to rise again. If the man moved, Call was ready to go for him again.

  But Dixon didn't move. He hung over his horse, blood dripping off his head and face into the dust. The soldiers mounted and slowly led the horse away.

  Call looked and saw Dish Boggett sitting on the ground by his saddle. He walked slowly over to him — Dish had a gash behind his ear.

  "Are you much hurt?" he asked.

  "No, Captain," Dish said. "Guess I'm too hardheaded."

  Call looked at Newt. There were welts beginning to form on his neck and one of his cheeks. A little blood showed in a cut on his ear. Newt was still tightly gripping Sugar's bit, a fact which Dish noticed for the first time. He stood up.

  "You hurt?" Call asked the boy.

  "No, sir," Newt said. "He just quirted me a little. I wasn't gonna let him have Dish's horse."

  "Well, you can let her go now," Dish said. "He's gone. I'm much obliged to you for what you did, Newt."

  Newt had gripped the bit so tightly that it was painful to let go. It had cut deep creases in his palms, and he seemed to have squeezed the blood out of his fingers. But he turned the mare loose. Dish took the reins and patted her on the neck.

  Augustus walked over and stooped down by Pete Spettle, who was blowing frothy blood out of his broken nose.

  "I better take you to the doctor," Augustus said.

  "Don't want no doc," Pete said.

  "'I god, this is a hardheaded lot," Augustus said, walking over to Ben Rainey. He took the candy sack and helped himself to a piece. "Hardly a one of you will take good advice."

  Call mounted the Hell Bitch, slowly re-coiling his rope. Several townspeople had witnessed the fight. Most were still standing there, watching the man on the gray mare.

  When he had his rope fixed again, Call rode over to Augustus. "Will you bring the grub?" he asked.

  "Yep," Augustus said. "I'll bring it."

  Call saw that everyone was looking at him, the hands and cowboys and townspeople alike. The anger had drained out of him, leaving him feeling tired. He didn't remember the fight, particularly, but people were looking at him as if they were stunned. He felt he should make some explanation, though it seemed to him a simple situation.

  "I hate a man that talks rude," he said. "I won't tolerate it."

  With that he turned and rode out of town. The people watching kept quiet. Rough as the place was, accustomed as they all were to sudden death, they felt they had seen something extraordinary, something they would rather not have seen.

  "My lord, Gus," Dish said, as he watched the Captain leave. Like the others, he was awed by the fury he had seen erupt in the Captain. He had seen men fight many times, but not like that. Though he himself hated Dixon, it was still disturbing to see him destroyed — not even with a gun, either.

  "Have you ever see
n him like that before?" he asked Augustus.

  "Once," Augustus said. "He killed a Mexican bandit that way once before I could stop it. The Mexican had cut up three white people, but that wasn't what prompted it. The man scorned Call."

  He took another piece of candy. "It don't do to scorn W. F. Call," he said.

  "Was it me?" Newt asked, feeling that maybe he should have managed things better. "Was it just that he was quirting me?"

  "That was part of it," Augustus said. "Call don't know himself what the rest of it was."

  "Why, he'd have killed that man, if you hadn't roped him," Dish said. "He would have killed anybody. Anybody!"

  Augustus, eating his candy, did not dispute it.

  86

  IT WAS BECAUSE of the fight that the boys ended up amid the whores. Dish saddled and left, and Augustus finished loading the wagon and started out of town. When he turned the wagon around, Newt and the Raineys were talking to Pea Eye, who had been up the street getting barbered and had missed the fight. Pea Eye had so much toilet water on that Augustus could smell him from ten feet away. He and the boys were standing around the bloody anvil and the boys were explaining the matter to him. Pea didn't seem particularly surprised.

  "Well, he's a fighter, the Captain," he said mildly. "He'll box 'em if they get him riled."

  "Box?" Ben Rainey said. "He didn't box. He run over the man with a horse and then near kicked his head off when he had him laying on the ground."

  "Oh, that's boxing, to the Captain," Pea Eye said.

  Augustus stopped the wagon. "You boys aim to linger around here?" he asked.

  The boys looked at one another. The fight had startled them so that they had more or less forgotten their plans — not that they had many.

  "Well, it's our only chance to see the town," Newt said, thinking Augustus was going to tell them to go back to the wagon.

  That was not Augustus's intention. He had four ten-dollar gold pieces in his pocket, which he had intended to slip the boys on the sly. With Call gone, that was unnecessary. He flipped one to Newt, then handed them to each of the other boys.

  "This is a bonus," Augustus said. "It's hard to enjoy a metropolis like this if you've got nothing but your hands in your pockets."

  "Hell, if you're giving away money, give me some, Gus," Pea Eye said.

  "No, you'd just spend it on barbers," Augustus said. "These boys will put it to better use. They deserve a frolic before we set out to the far north."

  He popped the team with the reins and rode out of town, thinking how young the boys were. Age had never mattered to him much. He felt that, if anything, he himself had gained in ability as the years went by. Yet he became a little wistful, thinking of the boys. However he might best them, he could never stand again where they stood, ready to go into a whorehouse for the first time. The world of women was about to open to them. Of course, if a whorehouse in Ogallala was the door they had to go through, some would be scared back to the safety of the wagon and the cowboys. But some wouldn't.

  The boys stood around the blacksmith's shop, talking about the money Augustus had given them. In a flash, all the calculating they had done for the last few weeks was rendered unnecessary. They had means right in their hands. It was a dizzying feeling, and a little frightening.

  "Ten dollars is enough for a whore, ain't it?" Ben Rainey asked Pea Eye.

  "Ain't priced none lately," Pea Eye said. It irked him that he had gone to the barbershop at the wrong time and missed the fight.

  "Why not, Pea?" Newt asked. He was curious. All the other hands had rushed in, to the whores. Even Dish had done it, and Dish was said to be in love with Lorena. Yet Pea was unaffected by the clamor — even around the campfire he kept quiet when the talk was of women. Pea was one of Newt's oldest friends, and it was important to know what Pea felt on the subject.

  But Pea was not forthcoming. "Oh, I mostly just stay with the wagon," he said, which was no answer at all. Indeed, while they were standing around getting used to having money to spend, Pea got his horse and rode off. Except for Lippy and the Irishman, they were the only members of the Hat Creek outfit left in town.

  Still, none of the boys felt bold enough just to go up the back stairs, as Dish had instructed them. It was decided to find Lippy, who was known to be a frequenter of whores.

  They found him standing outside a saloon looking very disappointed. "There's only one pia-ner in this town, and it's broke," he said. "A mule skinner busted it. I rode all this way in and ain't got to hear a note."

  "What do you do about whores?" Jimmy Rainey asked. He felt he couldn't bear much more frustration.

  "Why, that's a dumb question," Lippy said. "You do like the bull does with the heifer, only frontways, if you want to."

  Instead of clarifying matters, that only made them more obscure, at least to Newt. His sense of the mechanics of whoring was vague at best. Now Lippy was suggesting that there was more than one method, which was not helpful to someone who had yet to practice any method.

  "Yeah, but do you just ask?" he inquired. "We don't know how much it costs."

  "Oh, that varies from gal to gal, or madam to madam," Lippy said. "Gus gave Lorena fifty dollars once, but that price is way out of line."

  Then he realized he had just revealed something he was not supposed to tell, and to boys too. Boys were not reliable when it came to keeping secrets.

  "I oughtn't to tolt that," he said. "Gus threatened to shoot another hole in my stomach if I did."

  "We won't tell," Newt assured him.

  "Yes, you will," Lippy said. He was depressed anyway, because of the piano situation. He loved music and had felt sure he would get to play a little, or at least listen to some, in Ogallala. Yet the best he had done so far was a bartender with a harmonica, and he couldn't play that very well. Now he had really messed up and told Gus's secret.

  Then, in a flash of inspiration, it occurred to him that the best way out of that tight spot was to get the boys drunk. They were young and not used to drinking. Get them drunk enough and they might forget Ogallala entirely, or even Nebraska. They certainly would not be likely to remember his chance remark. He saw that the strongest thing they had treated themselves to so far was horehound candy.

  "Of course you boys are way too sober to be visiting whores," he said. "You've got to beer up a little before you attempt the ladies."

  "Why?" Newt asked. Though he knew whores were often to be found in saloons, he wasn't aware that being drunk was required of their customers.

  "Oh, yeah, them girls is apt to be rank," Lippy assured them. "Hell, they wallow around with buffalo hunters and such like. You want to have plenty of alcohol in you before you slip up on one. Otherwise you'll start to take a leak some morning and your pecker will come right off in your hand."

  That was startling information. The boys looked at one another.

  "Mine better not," Pete Spettle said darkly. He was not enjoying himself in town so far, apart from the miracle of being handed ten dollars by Gus.

  "Why, that's a leg pull," Jimmy Rainey said. "How could one come off?"

  "Oh, well, if it don't come plumb off it'll drip worse than my stomach," Lippy said. "You boys oughtn't to doubt me. I was living with whores before any of you sprouted."

  "How do we get the beer?" Newt asked. He was almost as intrigued by the thought of beer as by the thought of whores. He had never quite dared go in a saloon for fear the Captain would walk in and find him.

  "Oh, I'll get you the beer," Lippy said. "Got any cash?"

  The boys looked at one another, reluctant to reveal the extent of their riches lest Lippy try to exploit them in some way. Fortunately they had nearly three dollars over and above what Gus had given them.

  They shook out the small change and handed it to Lippy. They knew that drinking was something required of all real cowboys, and they were hot to try it.

  "Will this get much?" Newt asked.

  "Hell, will a frog hop?" Lippy said. "I can get you plenty of b
eer and a bottle of whiskey to chase it."

  Lippy was as good as his word. In ten minutes he was back with plenty of beer and a quart of whiskey. He had a twinkle in his eyes, but the boys were all so excited by the prospect of drinking that they didn't notice. Lippy gave them the liquor and immediately started up the street.

  "Where are you going?" Newt asked.

  "The barber says there's a drummer with an accordion staying in the hotel," Lippy said. "If he ain't too attached to the accordion, I might buy it. We could make some fine music back at the wagon if we had an accordion to play."

  "You oughta buy a new-hat," Jimmy Rainey said boldly, for Lippy was still wearing the disgraceful bowler he had worn in Lonesome Dove.

  "That hat looks like it was et by a heifer that had the green slobbers," Newt said, feeling proud of his wit. Lippy was out of hearing by then, so the wit was wasted.

  The beer wasn't, however. Feeling that it was not appropriate to drink right out on the main street, the boys took their liquor around to the back of the livery stable and fell to. At first they sipped cautiously, finding the beer rather bitter. But the more they drank, the less bothered they were by the bitter taste.

  "Let's sample the whiskey," Ben Rainey suggested. The suggestion was immediately adopted. After the cool beer, the whiskey tasted like liquid fire, and its effects were just as immediate as fire. By the time he had three long swigs of the whiskey Newt felt that the world had suddenly changed. The sun had been sinking rapidly as they drank, but a few swallows of whiskey seemed to stop everything. They sat down with their backs against the wall of the livery stable and watched the sun hang there, red and beautiful, over the brown prairie. Newt felt it might be hours before it disappeared. He swigged a couple of bottles of beer and felt himself getting lighter. In fact, he felt so light he had to put his hands on the ground every once in a white — he felt like as if he might float away. He might float up to where the sun was hanging. It was amazing that a few swallows of liquid could produce such a sensation. It was silly, but after a while he felt like lying down and hugging his stomach and hugging the earth, to make sure he didn't float off.