This pioneering work is about the traders, trappers, and explorers in the vast area that would become Oklahoma, Texas, Missouri, Arkansas, New Mexico, Kansas, and Colorado. Foreman describes the early explorations of the French and Spanish in the Louisiana Territory and often focuses on the junction of the Verdigris, Grand, and Arkansas rivers, known as the Three Forks, a trading and military center from which the conquest of a large part of the American Southwest was achieved.

Viewed in historical perspective are the business enterprises of A. P. Chouteau and others; treaties with the Indians and warfare between the Cherokees and Osage; massacres and disease epidemics; garrison life at Fort Gibson and the visits of writer Washington Irving and painter George Catlin; expeditions into the Southwest led by Colonel Henry Dodge, Captain Benjamin de Bonneville, and others; Sam Houston's sojourn in Indian country; and warfare on the Texas border.

Until now Apache history has been fragmented, offered in books dealing with specific bands or groups-the Mescaleros, Mimbrenos, Chiricahuas, and the more distant Kiowa Apaches, Lipans, and Jicarillas. In this book, Donald E. Worcester synthesizes the total historical experience of the Apaches, from the post-Conquest Spanish era to the late twentieth century. In clear, fluent prose he focuses primarily on the nineteenth century, the era of the Apaches' sometimes splintered but always determined resistance to the white intruders. They were never a numerous tribe, but, in their daring and skill as commando-like raiders, they well deserved the name ""Eagles of the Southwest.""The book highlights the many defensive stands and the brilliant assaults the Apaches made on their enemies. The only effective strategy against them was to divide and conquer, and the Spaniards (and after them the Anglo-Americans) employed it extensively, using renegade Indians as scouts, feeding traveling bands, and trading with them at their presidios and missions. When the Mexican Revolution disrupted this pattern in 1810, the Apaches again turned to raiding, and the Apache wars that erupted with the arrival of the Anglo-Americans constitute some of the most sensational chapters in America's military annals. The author describes the Apaches' life today on the Arizona and New Mexico reservations, where they manage to preserve some of the traditional ceremonies, while trying to provide livelihoods for all their people. The Apaches still have a proud history in their struggles against overwhelming odds of numbers and weaponry. Worcester here re-creates that history in all its color and drama.

This brief and entertaining history of the Texas Longhorn details the development of the first distinct American breed of beef cattle. The Spanish herds that had roamed Texas for generations, when mixed with English Longhorns brought by Anglo settlers in the early 1800s, yielded a rangy hybrid that could thrive in Texas' climate and was ideally suited to ranchers' aspirations.
Almost extinct by the turn of the century, the Texas Longhorn was preserved by the efforts of just a few people who recalled with fondness the days when the cattle had thundered on the trails. Some U.S. Forest Service officials, several ranchers, and even a folklorist--J. Frank Dobie--gathered the animals for breeding and successfully managed the small herds until they stabilized and began to increase. The Texas Longhorn Breeders Association of America was formed in 1964 to preserve and promote the breed, and a growing interest in improving health by eating leaner meat has spurred renewed interest in the lean Longhorn as more than just a nostalgic novelty.

"Arizona was, I knew, a land of cowboys and Indians, and both ranked high in my esteem. It was also where our father lived, and even though our mother had divorced him after he wandered off and didn't return, we knew he was somewhere in Arizona and always hoped he'd come and take us there." So writes Don Worcester, and for everyone else who ever dreamed of riding off to the West his tales will hold the poignancy and truth of that dream.
Worcester, his brother and sister lived most of their childhoods with their grandparents on "the homestead" in the Southern California desert, scraping by during the Great Depression. Some seasons they joined their mother, who was creating an academic career as an astronomer. Those times with her--in Berkeley, Winter Park, Florida, or Poughkeepsie--were welcome respites in the hard routine of life. Most days, though, were spent on the homestead doing chores or at school.
But there were horses. Some wild, some tame. All teasing with a freedom and a power that kept hope alive. There were friends, like A.P. Aldrich, the surrogate father who told the boys they could amount to something. There were escapades with brother Harris. And there was the day their father showed up at school--driving a powerful, shiny late-model car--for a half-hour visit.
With understated narrative and vivid detail, Worcester spins tales of childhood and growing up between the two World Wars, of the West lived as both fact and myth, of family and loneliness. It is sprightly telling of a most human story, a nostalgic memoir of an unusual rite of passage, evoking times and places that today have reality only in the mythos of the American Dream.

No homeseekers were ever plagued with more bad luck than those who followed the Englishman John Charles Beales to southern Texas late in 1834. On the banks of Las Moras Creek, not far from the Rio Grande, they established the colony of Dolores. Among them were the British-born Sarah Ann Horn and her husband and two small sons. For the pretty Sarah Ann, who shared her neighbors' fear of Comanche raids, the year or so in Dolores was a preview of a special hell to come. The threat of an invasion by Santa Anna, an uncongenial climate, a lack of trees for lumber, an unnavigable river, crop failures, and a scarcity of commodities contributed to the colonists' discouragement and discord.

In "Comanche Bondage" the distinguished southwestern historian Carl Coke Rister has written the history of the Dolores enterprise, drawing on Beale's journals and other documents, and including reports of the survivors. Leaving Dolores in the wake of news about the Alamo and Goliad disasters, the Horn family and their neighbors the Harrises headed toward Matamoras. They never arrived there. Later a broken Sarah Ann Horn told the horrifying story of the murder of the men and of the years of captivity she and Mrs. Harris and their children endured at the hands of the Comanches. Rister has edited and annotated her 1839 narrative, which complements and extends his account of Beales's folly.