Whether you classify The Legend of Bass Reeves: Being the True and Fictional Account of the Most Valiant Marshal in the West as fiction or nonfiction, it's a phenomenal book. And who better to create a unique blend of fable and fact than Gary Paulsen, who has written superb works of both fiction and nonfiction? Because there are large gaps in what we know of Bass Reeves's life, Paulsen fills them with his own storytelling, but it all adds up to a portrait of a real historical figure whose deeds render him fit for comparison to American folk heroes like Paul Bunyan and Pecos Bill. According to this book, Bass was born in 1824 (most online sources I've seen say 1838), the slave of a wealthy white Texan whom Bass just calls Mister. The mister is older and fatter than in his heyday, but owns a huge spread of ranch land, and even as a young boy Bass is required to help work it. His mother, Mammy, makes sure he doesn't do anything to raise the Mister's ire; the man gets ornery when he overindulges on whiskey, which is often. Mammy senses that Bass may be endowed with a touch of clairvoyance, but he's surprised one day to meet a coyote who seems to speak directly into his mind. "Things will change." What did the witch dog mean? The next seventy-five years is one long parade of change for Bass, so it's hard to pinpoint what the coyote foresaw.
At age twelve Bass first encounters Indians, a band of Comanches who devastate that region of Texas with their raids on white families. Bass spots the Comanches on horseback traveling the open Western lands, and Mister is so concerned by the report that he breaks a cardinal rule of slaveholding: never give a slave a firearm. He puts a .36-caliber percussion-cap muzzle-loading rifle in Bass's hands in case the Comanches head their way, and Bass demonstrates steady, accurate aim the first time he practices with the gun. No Comanches show up that night, but in the days ahead Bass comes face to face with one. His rifle empty at the time, he never does figure out how he lived to tell the tale. The Comanche has two fresh, bloody scalps dangling from his lance, and when Bass mentions this to Mister, the fat old man reluctantly concludes it's probably the two Garnett females, whose husband and father is at war in Mexico. Riding to the Garnett place alongside Mister to confirm, Bass walks into a macabre scene that leaves him retching and profoundly shaken. The sight of a murdered, mutilated woman and her young daughter will haunt him always, and he'll never underestimate what the Comanches are capable of. The Wild West was at least as gruesome and chaotic as modern legends claim.
Bass assumes more responsibility around the ranch in his late teens. He's emerged into his prime youth: tall, lean, muscled. He always loved riding Mister's horses when the man wasn't watching, particularly his Roman nose, but now he saddles and rides them in full view and Mister doesn't complain: he needs Bass to manage the ranch. Mister even lets Bass into the house and teaches him to play poker, a game that Bass shows aptitude for. Mammy sternly reminds him not to beat Mister too often, but the old man insists on playing for money; as a slave, Bass has never owned anything material, but Mister lets him keep his winnings and spend it in town. As the betting limit increases over time, Bass earns a couple hundred dollars, a tidy sum for any black man, slave or free. Then comes a night when Mister gets a little too drunk and runs out of cash to bet. He rashly wagers Bass's freedom against all of the adolescent slave's money. He'll throw in Mammy's freedom too, since Bass insists on it. A few tense rounds of play, followed by an accusation of cheating, and Bass's life suddenly turns upside down. He never thought Mister would pull a gun, or that he'd have to defend himself by cracking a whiskey jug over the man's head. Whether Mister lives or dies, Bass is in for the Texas justice system to crash down on his own head harder than that jug. In anguished tears, Mammy orders her only son to gallop out of there on the Roman nose before he's hanged for murder. It's a surreal swirl of events and emotions: Bass is homeless, a runaway slave and fugitive from the law; he like as not will never see Mammy again. How did life go so wrong in one evening?
The Indian Territory (comprised of Oklahoma and pieces of surrounding states) is where the Five Civilized Tribes—Chickasaw, Creek, Cherokee, Cree, and Seminoles—were forced by President Andrew Jackson to migrate to. As the land degenerated into a haven for outlaws, the government abandoned all oversight of it. Murder, theft, rape, and torture were common; the Indians couldn't leave, but who else would enter these parts? Bass Reeves rides into the Territory after fleeing the law, living off the wild land and helping his Roman nose do the same. He holes up away from criminals and Indians, sometimes going months without seeing anyone in the thousands of square miles of wilderness. Possessed of a marvelous memory, Bass learns the Territory's every hill, ridge, canyon, mountain, and hideout, noting where outlaws congregate and the location of stores that offer goods for sale. He still has the money won from Mister in their gambling sessions, and he purchases food, clothing, and other essentials to survive outdoors. Bass proves he can defend himself by shooting a pair of renegades who fire on him; his aim is steady as ever. He could subsist in the Territory on his own indefinitely...but again the coyote's prediction comes true.
A pack of wolves chasing a young Creek Indian girl prompts Bass to intervene; he won't let the carnivores tear her to shreds. Bass fends them off but suffers grievous injury, nearly bleeding out as he lifts the girl onto his horse and rides for help, but he isn't destined for heaven yet. The Creeks are nothing like the bloodthirsty Comanches, and Betty Two Shoes—the girl Bass rescued—has a family that is deeply grateful to the man who saved her. They want him to live among them, to treat him as a member of the family. Bass resides with the Creeks for better than two decades, until President Abraham Lincoln's Emancipation Proclamation officially liberates him from the bondage he was born into. He still doesn't know if Mister died that night he struck him, but Bass departs the Indian Territory to forge a new life. The greater part of his legacy is only beginning.
Settling down, Bass weds Nellie Jennie and they raise a slew of children while he runs a prosperous cattle ranch in Arkansas. But it's at age fifty-one that he accepts assignment as a deputy in the Indian Territory, under reforms initiated by legendary Judge Isaac Parker. The Territory is a cesspool of crime, but no one knows its ins and out like Bass. As a black man, he'll able to move more freely among the Indians, who distrust white people. In summer of 1875 Bass dons the badge at an age when most men of the era were slowing down, if not dead. Criminals had a considerable new foe in Deputy Bass Reeves.
His years as a lawman read like a series of thrilling vignettes. Bass pursues Bob Dozier, a notorious horse rustler, for years, always losing the scent just when he expects to corner the man. Finally trapping him in a cabin, Bass has his showdown, and his incredible luck holds up as it would for his entire career. He gets his man and Dozier gets death, victim of a deputy many call fearless. Bass has a long, hard chase after the cagey Jim Webb, a horse thief and murderer. Every time Bass rides into the Territory with a warrant, the odds are against his own survival, but he doggedly picks up Webb's trail. Bass is now seventy years old, but seems no less physically or mentally fit than in his prime. He uses his smarts to outpace Webb over a pursuit that stretches dozens of miles, slowly gaining as the notorious rustler burns his horses' energy. The two men fill their hands for an exchange of hot lead to rival any in Bass's career, but only the black man with seven decades of life under his belt is left standing. Webb may be the most impressive catch of Bass's years as deputy, but his next case is, by far, his most personal and painful.
What sort of warrant would Bass dread carrying out? One for his son, Bennie. After killing his own wife in a fit of passion at discovering her marital infidelity, Bennie runs off into the Territory. Bass requests that he be sent after Bennie, and that no other deputy attempt to do the job. Maybe he can persuade the kid to go home and face Judge Parker without the need for bullets. Riding out after his own boy is emotionally draining, but Bass has steeled himself for what has to be done by the time he corners Bennie in a closed canyon. The boy needs to turn himself in and get squared away with the law, but like any compassionate father, Bass will stand by him through the ordeal. His duty to the badge doesn't decrease his love for Bennie one bit.
Serving the Territory from 1875 to 1907, Bass could have then hung up his spurs for a life of quiet contentment, but the man had something left in the tank. At age eighty-one he is hired as town constable of Muskogee, Oklahoma, where he cleans up crime for the next few years. Even as an octogenarian, criminals learn not to trifle with Bass Reeves. He passes away in 1910 to a brief flurry of appreciative news posts about his career, though he didn't become a mainstay of American Western lore as many less-deserving figures did. He came, he conquered, then disappeared into history, but what a record of achievement he left behind. Gary Paulsen seems justified in asserting that Bass Reeves is as wondrous a hero as ever roamed the Wild West.
Packed with drama and excitement, The Legend of Bass Reeves is one of Gary Paulsen's best books, an extraordinary claim when that library of works includes The Rifle, Hatchet, Tiltawhirl John, Sarny: A Life Remembered, The Foxman, Woods Runner, The Island, Paintings from the Cave: Three Novellas, Woodsong, and Puppies, Dogs, and Blue Northers. Why is The Legend of Bass Reeves so powerful? A major reason is his rise from slavery, what he did with the opportunity after escaping Mister. "They could kill him, but they'd never own him again. No man would own him. He was running free, and nothing would make him turn back from that. Back from freedom." If someone owns you, they are responsible for your actions or lack thereof. After leaving Mister, Bass was accountable for the course of his own life. Would it be a worthwhile or wasted one? Would he spend his mental and physical resources wisely, or squander them? One could hardly do a more exemplary job in these respects than Bass, and it was possible only because he was free.
Arduous though his travel in the Indian Territory was as a teen fugitive, young Bass never took the miracle of freedom for granted. "Whenever he began to well up with self-pity, he said out loud, 'No man owns me or will ever own me again.' Sometimes he thought about that witch dog talking to him years ago. 'Things will change.' He was living a new life now." Bass lost his home and Mammy, but refused to lose sight of the fact that freedom is worth any cost. Born at a time when blacks in America were forcibly subjugated to whites, his long span of years lasted to the dawn of a new era, when the principles behind the country's founding began applying to people of every race. This, perhaps above all, is why Bass accepted the title of U.S. deputy. He states it perfectly when explaining to his son why he must bring him to justice. "Because it's the law...It's not just the white man's rules anymore, son, and free men live by the law." Bass respected the law out of a personal conviction that it's right to do so, not because a white man commanded him to. He exercised his freedom by choosing justice, and Bass cherished his ability to do so every day of his life. Would that we all followed his example.
Gary Paulsen is known for wilderness stories, but he writes magnificent Westerns. The atmosphere, characters, moments of searing emotion, and bedrock values of his best Western novels are remarkable; The Haymeadow, for which he won a Western Writers of America Golden Spur Award, is fantastic, and The Legend of Bass Reeves joins it as a memorable Paulsen story. I wasn't sure the mixture of fiction and nonfiction would work, but after reading the book I don't see how he could have done it much better. I rate The Legend of Bass Reeves three and a half stars, and Bass joins my personal list of Old West heroes I admire for their true grit in that sensational period of American history. If you enjoy the serious juvenile books Gary Paulsen has written, I recommend this one. Rarely has he performed at a higher level.