The Virginian

As the steam train pulls into Medicine Bow, Wyoming, a scene near the station catches the narrator’s eye. In a corral, a young pony eludes all attempts to lasso him, “wise, and rapid of limb […] with a quiet, incessant eye” (1). Finally, one lone man drops off the gate and, holding his rope low, suddenly whips it out and snags the horse, which promptly and shyly follows the man away.

The narrator’s baggage is lost. He overhears a conversation between a tall, laconic, handsome young black-haired man and an older fellow, who’s about to board the train, The young one teases his elder about trying, yet again, to head off in search of a wife. The older man, Uncle Hughey, protests loudly, but he seems to enjoy the attention.

The young man turns gravely to the narrator and says, in a deep Southern accent, "I reckon I am looking for you, seh” (8). 

The narrator asks if the young man is from Virginia. The young man says yes, then hands the narrator a letter from Judge Henry, owner of the ranch the narrator will visit. The narrator tells the Virginian that his trunk has been delayed; the Virginian decides that they will await it in town. To the narrator, the town appears horrible; he hopes they might simply travel straight to the ranch. The Virginian says the ranch is 263 miles away.

Judge Henry’s note welcomes the narrator and apologizes for his inability to meet him personally at the station; instead, he sends a “trustworthy man” to fetch him. The narrator, intimidated by the Virginian’s cool reserve, nonetheless admires his civility and considers him, despite some rough edges, a gentleman.

In a land of stark beauty, the town looks forlorn. As the two men walk toward an eating house, they meet Steve, a friend of the Virginian who tries playfully to steal his hat, but the Virginian displays an animal-like speed and dodges out of the way. The narrator realizes that the Virginian is the man who lassoed the pony in the corral.

Steve announces that all beds are claimed tonight; the best they can hope for is to share one. The Virginian bets him a round of drinks that he’ll get one for himself. Steve calls him a “son-of-a—” (14-15), but the Virginian takes it as friendly banter. At the eating house, they wash up at the trough outside, and the Virginian talks a pretty waitress into bringing them a fresh towel.

Flies hover over a dinner of canned corned beef and “strange” coffee. Something about the narrator’s dapper appearance puts off the locals, so he keeps quiet, which impresses them.

At the table, the Virginian ignores the traveling salesmen, or drummers, except for the American, whom he flatters by expressing interest in his patent-medicine merchandise. After dinner, several of them walk over to the boarding house, where every bed full. One is the American’s; the Virginian allows the American to talk him into accepting a share of the bed.

The group then walks to the store, where they arrange for the narrator to sleep on a counter. The Virginian leaves to play poker at the saloon. The American drummer hobnobs with other salesmen, telling them he has the Virginian on the hook and expects him to promote the patent medicines.

At the saloon, a corner table is filled with poker players. One, Trampas, loses a hand to the Virginian and calls him “you son-of-a—” (29). The Virginian pulls out his revolver and sets it on the table, saying, “When you call me that, smile” (29). A tense silence fills the room. Trampas does nothing, and everyone slowly relaxes. The narrator realizes that name-calling out West can be friendly or hostile: “the letter means nothing until the spirit gives it life” (30). 

A saloon dealer talks to the narrator about the Virginian’s character, declaring him brave but not dangerous. The Virginian chose not to shoot, whereas a coward might shoot wildly at the wrong time. Looking about the room, the narrator realizes that, for all their roughness, these men possess a directness of character and a simple nobility missing in city folks back East.

Late in the evening, the Virginian heads for the boarding house. Sensing that something’s up, a large contingent of visitors and townsfolk follow and crowd around the house door. Inside, the Virginian climbs into bed, then casually warns the American not to disturb him if he gets to tossing and turning in the throes of a nightmare—which, he claims, only happens once or twice a year—lest the Virginian unconsciously grab for his knife and the American accidentally get injured.

After a while, the nervous American tries to sneak away quietly but trips; the Virginian lets out an unearthly howl, and the American bursts out the door, half-undressed, into the arms of the townsfolk, who, laughing, proceed to pull the sleepers from their beds and dance with them in the street. Fiddlers play; the drinks are on Steve. The crowd rambles about town, making loud noises and waking the locals.

The crowd learns that the wife of an engineer is quite ill, and the noise subsides; people drift back to bed. Steve begs the Virginian to have one more drink, but the Southerner turns him down: "I have got to stay responsible” (41). 

The next morning, cowboys buy canned goods before riding off to work: “portable ready-made food plays of necessity a great part in the opening of a new country” (43).

By way of apology for the late-night noise, the Virginian picks some flowers and leaves them on the doorstep of the engineer and his ailing wife. The engineer discovers who sent them and is effusive in his thanks, but the Virginian waves off his compliments.

The narrator wanders idly about, enjoying the day. Piles of tin cans line the edge of town. At noon, the train arrives with the narrator’s trunk, along with Uncle Hughey and his new, young bride. The townsfolk toss rice at them as they drive out of town.

The Virginian prepares the wagon for the trip to the ranch while the narrator buys food for the journey. As they drive out of town, the narrator notices the dining-room landlady staring wistfully at the Virginian, then observes one of her blond hairs on the Virginian’s flannel shirt.

The narrator wonders how he’ll get along with the Virginian on the ride. The Southerner has been unfailingly polite yet distant. Something about the narrator he doesn’t like, but the visitor can’t quite put his finger on it.

The first night, they stay at the cabin of two young cattlemen and a chained coyote, a tame elk, and a mountain sheep that prefers standing on the roof. At 6,000 feet, the night is chilly. As they continue their journey, “every breath that I breathed was pure as water and strong as wine” (53). They see wild cattle, antelope, and coyotes, and kill a rattlesnake and some sage chickens that they roast that night over a campfire.

The next day, the mischievous horse Buck provokes a panic in his partner, and the wagon takes off across rough terrain, stopping finally in a dry creek bed. Nothing is damaged; thereafter, the horses, spent, are well behaved. “They are just like humans,” observes the Virginian.

As they draw near Judge Henry’s ranch, they meet a rider, Mr. Taylor, who has heard that the Virginian robbed a card player. The rumor began with Trampas and quickly took on a life of its own. They also learn that the nearby town of Bear Creek will build a schoolhouse. The Virginian hints that things are getting too civilized in the region, but he asks, “Got your eye on a schoolmarm?” (59).

Chapter 5 Summary: “Enter the Woman”

Mr. Taylor shows them a cheerful letter from a young Vermont woman, Mary Stark Wood, written to a local resident about the teaching job. Taylor asks if the letter indicates she might be a good candidate. The narrator concludes it’s as well written as any from the East. The Virginian reads it carefully; something in it seems to touch him.

The next day, they arrive at Judge Henry’s Sunk Creek Ranch, where the Virginian returns to his duties and retains his remoteness toward the narrator, who wishes forlornly that they might become friends. 

Famous throughout Wyoming, Sunk Creek Ranch is an enormous enterprise at the foot of the Bow Leg mountains. Huge herds of cattle fatten themselves on miles of open range and on grassy pastures fed by irrigation ditches. Judge Henry and his wife have provided benefits of civilization hard to find elsewhere in the territory: the ranch buildings lie beneath shade trees, and instead of the sowbelly beans common elsewhere, “the omelet and the custard were frequent” (65).

The ranch’s cowboys sport names like Nebrasky, Dollar Bill, and Chalkeye. The narrator is tasked with building an improved chicken coop; the cowboys comment wryly on his awkward carpentry. The narrator finds the men similar “in their courage, their generosity, and their amusement at me” (66).

The narrator is enthusiastic, despite his ignorance; the others laugh and teach him. His misadventures earn him the nickname “tenderfoot.” He is so uncoordinated and apt to get lost that the Virginian is told to guard the young dandy, particularly when he ventures out on horseback. This doesn’t sit well with the cowboy, but he performs the assignment courteously. At night in the bunkhouse, however, he relates stories of the narrator’s follies to gales of laughter.

One of the hens, Em’ly, sits on anything that resembles an egg. She commandeers two chicks from another hen and begins to raise them, then tries to make off with turkey chicks. The ranch dog, a setter, has a litter of pups, and Em’ly proceeds to sit on them. The setter, a lackluster mother, finds the arrangement to her liking; the pups soon come to regard Em’ly as their mom, and she keeps at it until they grow too large for her.

The Virginian, taking pity on the childless hen, places an egg from another chicken, one ready to hatch, in her coop. Em’ly promptly sits on it, and it hatches hours later. Shocked at this unnatural speed, Em’ly rejects the chick and wanders about for hours, making a wailing sound. Finally, she hops up into a tree, wails there for hours, and falls dead. The Virginian, remorseful, gives Em’ly a proper burial.

By the end of two summer months, the narrator and the Virginian have become friends. The narrator returns east and begins a correspondence by mail with the cowboy. 

The following spring, the Virginian invites the narrator to return in late summer for an elk-hunting trip. The narrator agrees, and they venture up into Yellowstone country. The narrator learns that Judge Henry and his wife now have two baby boys, that Steve and the Virginian had a falling-out and are no longer friends, and that the Virginian has left the judge’s employ due to mistreatment by the foreman. The Southerner predicts, though, that the judge will rehire him before long.

The following winter, Judge and Mrs. Henry visit the narrator back East. They inform him that Henry, having realized the value of the Virginian, has hired him back. They add that the Virginian’s friend Steve is an alleged cattle rustler. The Bear Creek schoolhouse is finished, and that the young lady from Vermont will arrive soon to begin teaching.