Index of the Project Gutenberg Works of Frederic Remington

In Short

This collection of works documents the late 19th-century American West through the eyes of one of its most iconic chroniclers. Combining historical observation, fictionalized accounts of soldiers and pioneers, and the poignant, often brutal struggle of indigenous peoples, these texts serve as a composite portrait of a vanishing world. Whether through the lens of a weary soldier or the perspective of a displaced warrior, the narratives preserve the grit, the vast geography, and the uncompromising spirit that defined the frontier experience during a period of rapid and irreversible transformation.

The Story

The narrative arc of these combined works moves from the untamed, ancestral lands of the Plains Indians toward the encroaching reality of the "Yellow-Eyes" or white settlers. In the beginning, the focus rests on the intimate, traditional life of the indigenous tribes, particularly the Cheyenne. We witness the maturation of youths like White Otter, who seeks to prove his worth through ritual, hunting, and the acquisition of spiritual power. This world is one of tribal loyalties, medicine-fights, and a profound connection to the land, yet it is shadowed by the inevitability of conflict.

As the accounts shift toward the frontier outposts, the perspective widens to include the U.S. Cavalry, scouts, and the persistent tide of pioneers. The stories detail the claustrophobia of fort life, the grueling nature of long-distance marches across the desert, and the frequent, sudden eruptions of violence between soldiers and those resisting their expansion. Characters like John Ermine, raised among the Crow, embody the tension of this transition; he is a man caught between two worlds, neither truly white nor fully Indian, struggling to reconcile his upbringing with a society that views him with suspicion.

Simultaneously, the broader historical records provided by the chronicles of figures like Daniel Boone, Davy Crockett, and Kit Carson trace the relentless push of the "American Ax" and the "American Rifle" westward. This is a story of mapping, traversing, and settling the continent. The narrative does not merely celebrate this expansion; it dwells on the cost—the broken treaties, the loss of wilderness, and the rugged, often lonely existence of those who lived on the edge of "civilization."

The final movements of these combined texts deal with the legacy of this expansion. We see the emergence of the "Cracker Cowboy," the life of the rancher, and the strange, quiet days that follow the fiercest fighting. The landscape, once characterized by the "rushing red lodges" and the "medicine-fight," begins to fill with iron rails, stagecoaches, and the encroaching structure of government. The ending is not a singular conclusion but a long, slow fading of the old frontier. The wild, open expanse is increasingly tamed, leaving behind only the stories of scouts, soldiers, and settlers who remember the land before it was partitioned, fenced, and forever altered by the march of progress.

How It Unfolds

The traditional beginning The narrative opens with the rites of passage for young men in the Plains tribes, establishing a world governed by omens, animal spirits, and tribal honor. The focus remains on the preservation of a culture that views the land as an extension of the self.

The collision of forces As the stories progress, the intrusion of "pony-soldiers" and white settlers introduces a new, discordant rhythm. The tension mounts through skirmishes, the breaking of supply lines, and the fundamental misunderstanding between the U.S. Army and the tribal leaders.

The life of the frontier outpost The perspective shifts to the dusty reality of fort life, where loneliness and routine are punctuated by the sudden, terrifying arrival of news from the front. Soldiers and officers navigate a complex social web of duty, loyalty, and illicit romance while the threat of ambush remains a constant, silent presence.

The expansionist history Interwoven with these tales are the accounts of the great scouts and pioneers who acted as the vanguards of American expansion. These sections map the physical progression from the Alleghenies to the Pacific, detailing the tools—the rifle, the boat, and the horse—that made the conquest of the West possible.

The fading of the wild The final movements describe the settling of the frontier, where the high drama of the Indian Wars gives way to the industry of the ranch and the town. The stories conclude with the realization that the "strange days" of the open range are drawing to a close, leaving only ghosts and memories in the wake of the iron road.

The People

White Otter stands at the center of the earliest accounts, a figure of traditional power who evolves from a hopeful youth into a hardened warrior. His struggle is defined by his desire to maintain the integrity of his people in the face of overwhelming odds. John Ermine, conversely, represents the tragic, liminal figure; his transition from a life among the Crow to the society of Virginia City leaves him perpetually alienated, highlighting the impossibility of bridging the cultural chasm.

The soldiers and officers, such as the characters found in the tales of frontier outposts, are driven by a rigid code of duty that often clashes with their own humanity. They want to secure the territory and survive the elements, yet they are frequently defeated by their own lack of comprehension regarding the people they fight. The pioneers—Boone, Crockett, and Carson—are portrayed not just as men, but as archetypes of the "American" impulse to move, explore, and claim. They represent the restless energy of a nation, serving as the conduits for the change that ultimately displaces the very wilderness they love. Each figure ends up marked by the land; those who survive are often solitary, weathered, and fundamentally changed by the silence and the vastness of the West.

In Its Own Voice

"He looked on the land of his people and he hated all vehemently."

This line captures the internal state of a protagonist witnessing the encroachment of settlers upon his ancestral territory.

"He shouted his harsh pathos at a wild and lonely wind."

This serves as a description of a warrior’s defiant, desperate expression of grief and anger in the face of inevitable defeat.

"It is strange how one can accustom himself to 'pack'."

In the context of long-range scouting and travel, this remark highlights the simplicity and harshness of a life stripped of all non-essential burdens.

What It's Really About

At its core, this collection examines the concept of "the frontier" not as a place, but as a crucible. It asks whether the expansion of a nation is inherently a process of destruction, and whether the individuals caught in that expansion—both the conquerors and the conquered—can ever truly transcend their origins. There is a deep, recurring preoccupation with the "vanishing" of things: the vanishing of the Indian, the vanishing of the wilderness, and the vanishing of the specific type of rugged, solitary man that the frontier once produced. It is a meditation on the cost of progress and the profound melancholy that accompanies the realization that a way of life has been permanently extinguished.

Why Read It Today

Reading these accounts is like stepping into a gallery of stark, monochromatic snapshots. The prose is utilitarian and descriptive, favoring the visceral experience of a horse’s gallop or the tension of a standoff over complex psychological interiority. You will find it most compelling if you are interested in the visual and cultural history of the American West, as the text pulses with the same observational intensity found in the author’s famous paintings.

However, a modern reader must be prepared for the period attitudes embedded in the narrative. The language reflects the prejudices of the late 19th century, frequently depicting indigenous peoples through the dual tropes of the "noble savage" or the "hostile foe," and the tone is often one of detached, sometimes casual, fatalism toward the eradication of native cultures. It does not shy away from the brutality of the era, and the dialect and military jargon can, at times, create a distance for the contemporary reader. Despite this, the book remains a vital, if difficult, record. It captures a specific American mythology in its raw, unpolished state, offering an honest look at the romanticism and the violence that were inextricably linked in the project of conquering the West. It stays with you because it captures a silence in the landscape that no longer exists.