Louis LAmour - Dutchmans Flat

Dedicated once more to
honesty in publishing.

Foreword

THE STORIES OF the west are many, and few of them have been told. Many, of course, deal with land and cattle, with the business of simply getting from here to there, with soldiers returning from the Civil War, and of course, with the American Indian. The wagon trains, the wild boom camps, the railroads building, the adjustments, both mental and physical, to living in a different world with a different life-style, but, above all, the stories of the west are exciting because they are dealing with a selected people, selected by the circumstances.

Not everybody came west, not everybody wanted to. Those who came were the most adventurousthe hardy souls, both men and women, who were willing to risk everything to find a new life.

None of them were completely innocent as to the life into which they were entering. As always, man looked westward through rose-colored glasses, seeing only the excitement, the chances for riches, a new lifefew realized how hard it was going to be.

The frontier took care of that. Some of the newcomers turned tail and ran for shelter back home, some died of hardship and disease, by accident and warfare of one kind or another. If you were not strong you either became so or you died, it was as simple as that. Stories of the frontier are exciting because they are about dynamic people, the ones who have been through the mill. The men and women who arrived in the west were survivors, they had to be. And they had to continue to survive.

No part of it was easy, and those who survived did so because they were capable of standing alone. When you get a bunch of individualists brushing against each other, there are always possibilities for trouble, for they were proud people, secure in themselves but apt to resent any infringement of their rights or what they conceived to be so.

Most men were honest. Those who were not were soon identified and the word went along the cattle trails and the stage roads. A man with a reputation for shady deals or dishonesty of one kind or another was soon relegated to doing business with his own kind. It was simply too small a population despite the size of the country. Western men and women had no secrets except those they brought west with them. Once arrived their lives became an open book. Most of the towns were of a few hundred people only, and those which were larger were made up of known people in most instances.

Once arrived in the west a man or woman soon became known by his or her actions. Nobody asked any questions. Nobody cared what you had done or who your father and mother were. It was what you were now that mattered, it mattered that you were honest, that you had courage, that you did your job.

If a stranger rode into town people were inclined to be reserved until they knew who and what he was. He would find courtesy but not acceptance until he had shown his colors.

Because western men and women were the sort of people they were, stories grew naturally from their actions and reactions. Yet it was the land as well as the people that bred stories, a harsh land but a land of beauty and one that must forever be a consideration in whatever one planned.

In the following pages are a few stories growing out of the westward movement. Distances were great, communications difficult or delayed, and much could happen while a man was off to fight a war or drive a herd of cattle to market.

Guns were used, but not carelessly, and there were men then as now who understand nothing else.

O N THE BACK cover I've explained why this edition of Dutchman's Flat is coming out so closely with Bantam's recent publication of the short fiction collection I put together entitled Riding for the Brand. A very small number of my stories are not protected by copyright law and, without my permission, a publisher I am in no way associated with is bringing out original magazine versions of some of these works in books under the same titles with my name on them.

You'd think this publisher would remember what happened in the marketplace almost three years ago when my readers bypassed their unauthorized editions of Law of the Desert Born and The Hills of Homicide in favor of the authorized Bantam publications. Perhaps they think my readers have short memories. Or that I'd be too busy to react to what they're doing now. They're wrong.

While they may have the legal right to publish my stories contained in these two unauthorized editions, I'm now more determined than ever that my stories be published the way I see fit to best serve my readers.

I stopped work on a new novel to personally select and edit the stories that make up Dutchman's Flat and Riding for the Brand and to write the supporting historical notes that introduce each work and enhance the reading experience.

My publisher and I won't allow my readers to be shortchanged. In addition to my newly written commentaries, these authorized editions have more stories than the unauthorized ones.

Bantam Books is my official publisher and has been so for more than thirty years. They are the only publisher authorized to issue my short stories in book form. Only accept short story collections with my name on them that are published by Bantam.

It goes without saying that I'll never autograph any unauthorized editions of my books. As far as I'm concerned, they simply don't exist.

I hope you enjoy this edition of Dutchman's Flat.

Louis L'Amour
Los Angeles, California
February, 1986

Author's Note

DUTCHMAN'S FLAT

E VERYTHING A MAN does is indication of his character, whether he cheats at cards or takes an unfair advantage because it is legal.

This was probably more evident in the West, where a man's actions were often starkly revealed. The population was sparse, and there was, literally, no place to hide.

Occasionally I have become so involved with the characters in a story that I hesitate to let them go, and Dutchman's Flat was such a story. As a result I took the same basic situation and extended the story, much later, into a novel called The Key-Lock Man. In another such case the short story War Party became Bendigo Shafter.

Characters can become very real to their author, and often it is difficult to abandon them. One wants to know more about them, about their lives after the story in question, and the only way to know is to let the story tell itself. The story of the people in Dutchman's Flat is as revealing of western character as any I have written.

DUTCHMAN'S FLAT

T HE DUST OF Dutchman's Flat had settled in a gray film upon their faces, and Neill could see the streaks made by the sweat on their cheeks and brows and knew his own must be the same. No man of them was smiling and they rode with their rifles in their hands, six grim and purposeful men upon the trail of a single rider.

They were men shaped and tempered to the harsh ways of a harsh land, strong in their sense of justice, ruthless in their demand for punishment, relentless in pursuit. From the desert they had carved their homes, and from the desert they drew their courage and their code, and the desert knows no mercy.

Where's he headin', you reckon?

Home, mostly likely. He'll need grub an' a rifle. He's been livin' on the old Sorenson place.