 The Virginian held himself
perfectly still. When he responded, each word
was clipped and precise and seemed to hang in the air of its own accord. “If you want to die—try!”Killebrew did.
He went for his six-gun with all the speed he could muster, but the barrel
had not yet cleared the holster when the room thundered to two shots spaced so closely
together they sounded like one, and twin holes blossomed high on his chest. The impact hurled him rearward into a card table
that gave way under his momentum and weight. Both
hit the floor with a tremendous crash.
Now the room became deathly still again. Everyone there stared breathlessly at the limp
corpse.
“Anyone else want to play his hand?”
To the Virginian’s surprise, there was. The sound of gunmetal clearing leather filled the
air, and an instant later came the deafening roar of gunfire…. |
 Owen Wister’s stirring
novel The Virginian is one of the greatest westerns ever written. It is the classic tale of a proud man on the
Wyoming frontier who stood tall when others ran, who knew the cold feet of hatred and the
heart of burning lead. Now, in the style and
voice of Wister himself, comes the brilliantly crafted sequel to his immortal work…
The Virginian had found peace in
Medicine Bow, Wyoming. Finally, his own
shadowy past seemed hidden forever. But
everything suddenly changed when, without warning, the quiet valley exploded with the
sound of gunfire and the smell of powder smoke. A
range war, threatening to engulf the entire territory, raged like a windblown prairie
fire. It seemed as if no one could stop it
– until a tall, ramron-straight man reached back into his past to find either his
former greatness—or his doom. |
TO MY READER
Certain of the newspapers, when Owen Wister’s The Virginian
was published, branded it a “historical novel.”
Wister himself called it a “colonial romance.”
The sequel is a bit of both and more.
It is historical in the sense that the plot relates directly to the Johnson
County War, a conflict between ranchers, rustlers, and homesteaders that actually
occurred. It is a romance in the sense that
the relationship between the Southerner and the Schoolmarm continues to unfold, and we get
to share the full depth of their love, to experience their many heartbreaks and their
personal triumphs.
Foremost,
however, The Return of the Virginian is intended to be an entertaining Western from
the first page to the last. It is the story
of a Wyoming cowboy, a tale of a man coming to grips with his past, his present, and his
future. It is a stirring account of frontier
times when this great nation of ours had not yet succumbed to the enticing lures of
self-indulgence.
If, along the way, this book has anything of note to say about the
state of our country, or the nature of politics, or the never-ending war between the
“haves” and the “have-nots,” it is entirely incidental to the story
itself.
Out of respect to Owen Wister, I have adhered diligently to the style
and tone of his original classic. The
Professor’s journal entries, for instance, are related as first person
accounts—as well they should be—since part of our fascination comes from viewing
the West through his inexperienced eyes. The
Virginian’s adventures, however, are related in the only manner they can be told,
through straightforward narrative. Quintessential
Mystery Man that he is, the Southerner’s thoughts and insights are reflected by his
actions. We are rarely permitted to see the
world through his eyes, as we do with his good friend.
The Virginian, unfortunately, did not leave a detailed journal for
posterity.
Some might say that mixing the two narrative styles is confusing. But not in this case, where the two points of view
so perfectly complement on another as to give us an indelible portrait of a man unique in
the annals of the American West and perhaps in all of American literature: The Virginian.
This one last note, and then I will let you read in peace. For those who will regard the main
character’s proficiency with six-shooters as unduly exaggerated, I would refer you to
an article written by Robert A. Kane, an editor of Outdoor Life, concerning the
marksmanship of one James Butler Hickok; better known as “Wild Bill,” near Milwaukee during the latter half of the last
century. A critical observer, Mr. Kane wound
up being so impressed that he later wrote he would be “prepared to believe any story
of his skill or prowess that does not conflict with the laws of gravitation and
physics.”
Now read on, and may you enjoy the time you spend between the covers
of this novel. If, when you are done, you set
the book down and smile, I will have been amply rewarded for all the effort.
Oregon
October 1993 |