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47 Works of Stewart Edward White

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The Ole Virginia

Story type: Literature

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THE ring around the sun had thickened all day long, and the turquoise blue of the Arizona sky had filmed. Storms in the dry countries are infrequent, but heavy; and this surely meant storm. We had ridden since sunup over broad mesas, down and out of deep canyons, along the base of the mountains in […]

The winds were indeed abroad that night. They rattled our cabin, they shrieked in our eaves, they puffed down our chimney, scattering the ashes and leaving in the room a balloon of smoke as though a shell had burst. When we opened the door and stepped out, after our good-nights had been said, it caught […]

On Seeing Deer

Story type: Essay

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Once I happened to be sitting out a dance with a tactful young girl of tender disposition who thought she should adapt her conversation to the one with whom she happened to be talking. Therefore she asked questions concerning out-of-doors. She knew nothing whatever about it, but she gave a very good imitation of one […]

On Tenderfeet

Story type: Essay

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The tenderfoot is a queer beast. He makes more trouble than ants at a picnic, more work than a trespassing goat; he never sees anything, knows where anything is, remembers accurately your instructions, follows them if remembered, or is able to handle without awkwardness his large and pathetic hands and feet; he is always lost, […]

The Canon

Story type: Essay

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One day we tied our horses to three bushes, and walked on foot two hundred yards. Then we looked down. It was nearly four thousand feet down. Do you realize how far that is? There was a river meandering through olive-colored forests. It was so distant that it was light green and as narrow as […]

At last, on the day appointed, we, with five horses, climbed the Cold Spring Trail to the ridge; and then, instead of turning to the left, we plunged down the zigzag lacets of the other side. That night we camped at Mono Canon, feeling ourselves strangely an integral part of the relief map we had […]

As I have said, a river flows through the canon. It is a very good river with some riffles that can be waded down to the edges of black pools or white chutes of water; with appropriate big trees fallen slantwise into it to form deep holes; and with hurrying smooth stretches of some breadth. […]

On Camp Cookery

Story type: Essay

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One morning I awoke a little before the others, and lay on my back staring up through the trees. It was not my day to cook. We were camped at the time only about sixty-five hundred feet high, and the weather was warm. Every sort of green thing grew very lush all about us, but […]

The Inferno

Story type: Essay

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For eight days we did penance, checking off the hours, meeting doggedly one after another the disagreeable things. We were bathed in heat; we inhaled it; it soaked into us until we seemed to radiate it like so many furnaces. A condition of thirst became the normal condition, to be only slightly mitigated by a […]

The Foot-Hills

Story type: Essay

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At once our spirits rose. We straightened in our saddles, we breathed deep, we joked. The country was scorched and sterile; the wagon-trail, almost paralleling the mountains themselves on a long easy slant toward the high country, was ankle-deep in dust; the ravines were still dry of water. But it was not the Inferno, and […]

The Pines

Story type: Essay

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I do not know exactly how to make you feel the charm of that first camp in the big country. Certainly I can never quite repeat it in my own experience. Remember that for two months we had grown accustomed to the brown of the California landscape, and that for over a week we had […]

The Trail

Story type: Essay

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When you say “trail” to a Westerner, his eye lights up. This is because it means something to him. To another it may mean something entirely different, for the blessed word is of that rare and beautiful category which is at once of the widest significance and the most intimate privacy to him who utters […]

The Ridge Trail

Story type: Essay

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Six trails lead to the main ridge. They are all good trails, so that even the casual tourist in the little Spanish-American town on the seacoast need have nothing to fear from the ascent. In some spots they contract to an arm’s length of space, outside of which limit they drop sheer away; elsewhere they […]

On Equipment

Story type: Essay

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If you would travel far in the great mountains where the trails are few and bad, you will need a certain unique experience and skill. Before you dare venture forth without a guide, you must be able to do a number of things, and to do them well. First and foremost of all, you must […]

On Horses

Story type: Essay

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I really believe that you will find more variation of individual and interesting character in a given number of Western horses than in an equal number of the average men one meets on the street. Their whole education, from the time they run loose on the range until the time when, branded, corralled, broken, and […]

One truth you must learn to accept, believe as a tenet of your faith, and act upon always. It is that your entire welfare depends on the condition of your horses. They must, as a consequence, receive always your first consideration. As long as they have rest and food, you are sure of getting along; […]

Climbing For Goats

Story type: Literature

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CHAPTER I Near the point at which the great Continental Divide of the Rocky Mountains crosses the Canadian border another range edges in toward it from the south. Between these ranges lies a space of from twenty to forty miles; and midway between them flows a clear, wonderful river through dense forests. Into the river […]

The Tide

Story type: Literature

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A short story, say the writers of text books and the teachers of sophomores, should deal with but a single episode. That dictum is probably true; but it admits of wider interpretation than is generally given it. The teller of tales, anxious to escape from restriction but not avid of being cast into the outer […]

The Road Agent

Story type: Literature

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CHAPTER I The Sierra Nevadas of California are very wide and very high. Kingdoms could be lost among the defiles of their ranges. Kingdoms have been found there. One of them was Bright’s Cove. It happened back in the seventies. Old Man Bright was prospecting. He had come up from the foothills accompanied by a […]

Moisture, A Trace

Story type: Literature

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Last fall I revisited Arizona for the first time in many years. My ultimate destination lay one hundred and twenty-eight miles south of the railroad. As I stepped off the Pullman I drew deep the crisp, thin air; I looked across immeasurable distance to tiny, brittle, gilded buttes; I glanced up and down a ramshackle […]

Cutting Out

Story type: Literature

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It was somewhere near noon by the time we had bunched and held the herd of some four or five thousand head in the smooth, wide flat, free from bushes and dog holes. Each sat at ease on his horse facing the cattle, watching lazily the clouds of dust and the shifting beasts, but ready […]

The Cattle Rustlers

Story type: Literature

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Dawn broke, so we descended through wet grasses to the canon. There, after some difficulty, we managed to start a fire, and so ate breakfast, the rain still pouring down on us. About nine o’clock, with miraculous suddenness, the torrent stopped. It began to turn cold. The Cattleman and I decided to climb to the […]

The Drive

Story type: Literature

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A cry awakened me. It was still deep night. The moon sailed overhead, the stars shone unwavering like candles, and a chill breeze wandered in from the open spaces of the desert. I raised myself on my elbow, throwing aside the blankets and the canvas tarpaulin. Forty other indistinct, formless bundles on the ground all […]

The Remittance Man

Story type: Literature

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After Windy Bill had finished his story we began to think it time to turn in. Uncle Jim and Charley slid and slipped down the chute-like passage leading from the cave and disappeared in the direction of the overhang beneath which they had spread their bed. After a moment we tore off long bundles of […]

The Texas Rangers

Story type: Literature

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I came from Texas, like the bulk of you punchers, but a good while before the most of you were born. That was forty-odd years ago–and I’ve been on the Colorado River ever since. That’s why they call me Colorado Rogers. About a dozen of us came out together. We had all been Texas Rangers, […]

At this moment the heavy beat of the storm on the roof ceased with miraculous suddenness, leaving the outside world empty of sound save for the DRIP, DRIP, DRIP of eaves. Nobody ventured to fill in the pause that followed the stranger’s last words, so in a moment he continued his narrative. We had every […]

The Old Timer

Story type: Literature

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About a week later, in the course of the round-up, we reached the valley of the Box Springs, where we camped for some days at the dilapidated and abandoned adobe structure that had once been a ranch house of some importance. Just at dusk one afternoon we finished cutting the herd which our morning’s drive […]

A Corner In Horses

Story type: Literature

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It was dark night. The stay-herd bellowed frantically from one of the big corrals; the cow-and-calf-herd from a second. Already the remuda, driven in from the open plains, scattered about the thousand acres of pasture. Away from the conveniences of fence and corral, men would have had to patrol all night. Now, however, everyone was […]

The Corral Branding

Story type: Literature

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All that night we slept like sticks of wood. No dreams visited us, but in accordance with the immemorial habit of those who live out–whether in the woods, on the plains, among the mountains, or at sea–once during the night each of us rose on his elbow, looked about him, and dropped back to sleep. […]

The Honk-Honk Breed

Story type: Literature

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It was Sunday at the ranch. For a wonder the weather had been favourable; the windmills were all working, the bogs had dried up, the beef had lasted over, the remuda had not strayed–in short, there was nothing to do. Sang had given us a baked bread-pudding with raisins in it. We filled it–in a […]

The Calabash Stew

Story type: Literature

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I had agreed with Denton to stick to the beach, but Schwartz could not last much longer, and I had not the slightest idea how far it might prove to be to Mollyhay. So I turned up the trail. We climbed a mountain ten thousand feet high. I mean that; and I know, for I’ve […]

The Murder On The Beach

Story type: Literature

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The cook stuck his head in at the open door. “Say, you fellows,” he complained, “I got to be up at three o’clock. Ain’t you never going to turn in?” “Shut up, Doctor!” “Somebody kill him!” “Here, sit down and listen to this yarn!” yelled a savage chorus. There ensued a slight scuffle, a few […]

The Chewed Sugar Cane

Story type: Literature

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“I’d like to have trailed you fellows,” sighed a voice from the corner. “Would you!” said Colorado Rogers grimly. It was five days to the next water. But they were worse than the eight days before. We were lucky, however, for at the spring we discovered in a deep wash near the coast, was the […]

The Two Gun Man

Story type: Literature

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CHAPTER ONE THE CATTLE RUSTLERS Buck Johnson was American born, but with a black beard and a dignity of manner that had earned him the title of Senor. He had drifted into southeastern Arizona in the days of Cochise and Victorio and Geronimo. He had persisted, and so in time had come to control the […]

The Rawhide

Story type: Literature

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CHAPTER ONE THE PASSING OF THE COLT’S FORTY-FIVE The man of whom I am now to tell you came to Arizona in the early days of Chief Cochise. He settled in the Soda Springs Valley, and there persisted in spite of the devastating forays of that Apache. After a time he owned all the wells […]

The Fifth Way

Story type: Literature

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The prophet confessed four things as beyond his understanding–the way of an eagle in the air, the way of a serpent upon the rock, the way of a ship in the midst of the sea, and the way of a man with a maid–but we of modern times must add a fifth, and that is […]

I Barbara hesitated long between the open-work stockings and the plain-silk, but finally decided on the former. Then she vouchsafed a pleased little smile to her pleasant little image in the mirror, and stepped through the door into the presence of her aunt. The aunt was appropriately astonished. This was the first time Barbara had […]

The River-Boss

Story type: Literature

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“Obey orders if you break owners” is a good rule, but a really efficient river-boss knows a better. It runs, “Get the logs out. Get them out peaceably if you can, but get them out.” He does not need a field-telephone to headquarters to teach him how to live up to the spirit of this […]

The Foreman

Story type: Literature

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A man is one thing: a man plus his work is another, entirely different. You can learn this anywhere, but in the lumber woods best of all. Especially is it true of the camp boss, the foreman. A firm that knows its business knows this, and so never considers merely what sort of a character […]

The Scaler

Story type: Literature

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Once Morrison & Daly, of Saginaw, but then lumbering at Beeson Lake, lent some money to a man named Crothers, taking in return a mortgage on what was known as the Crothers Tract of white pine. In due time, as Crothers did not liquidate, the firm became possessed of this tract. They hardly knew what […]

The Riverman

Story type: Literature

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I first met him one Fourth of July afternoon in the middle eighties. The sawdust streets and high board sidewalks of the lumber town were filled to the brim with people. The permanent population, dressed in the stiffness of its Sunday best, escorted gingham wives or sweethearts; a dozen outsiders like myself tried not to […]

The Race

Story type: Literature

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This story is most blood-and-thundery, but, then, it is true. It is one of the stories of Alfred; but Alfred is not the hero of it at all–quite another man, not nearly so interesting in himself as Alfred. At the time, Alfred and this other man, whose name was Tom, were convoying a band of […]

The Two Cartridges

Story type: Literature

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This happened at the time Billy Knapp drove stage between Pierre and Deadwood. I think you can still see the stage in Buffalo Bill’s show. Lest confusion arise and the reader be inclined to credit Billy with more years than are his due, it might be well also to mention that the period was some […]

This is one of the stories of Alfred. There are many of them still floating around the West, for Alfred was in his time very well known. He was a little man, and he was bashful. That is the most that can be said against him; but he was very little and very bashful. When […]

Billy’s Tenderfoot

Story type: Literature

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During one spring of the early seventies Billy Knapp ran a species of road-house and hotel at the crossing of the Deadwood and Big Horn trails through Custer Valley. Travellers changing from one to the other frequently stopped there over night. He sold accommodations for man and beast, the former comprising plenty of whiskey, the […]

The Girl In Red

Story type: Literature

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“It isn’t that I object to,” protested the Easterner, leaning forward from the rough log wall to give emphasis to his words, “for I believe in everyone having his fun his own way. If you’re going in for orgies, why, have ’em good orgies, and be done with it. But my kick’s on letting these […]

The Saving Grace

Story type: Literature

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Once upon a time there was an editor of a magazine who had certain ideas concerning short stories. This is not wonderful, for editors have such ideas; and when they find a short story which corresponds, they accept it with joy and pay good sums for it. This particular editor believed that a short story […]