Big Tappan Kittery had learned to kill in the War. Killing became a nightmare, but the end of the war was not like waking up, because the nightmare didn't end. The bloodshed continued around Kittery like a plague, with Arizona Territory as its breeders. There was only one way for Kittery to stop the killing.

 

Take down the Devil.

Author's Note

The following has been excerpted from the original version of this book, which was published in two volumes. It was known then as Season of the Vigilante, Book One: The Bloody Season and Book Two: Season's End:

This book began in 1978 as "The Vigilante." Its main character, Tappan Kittery, was then a huge, bearded brute of a man who killed mercilessly anyone he suspected of a crime or anyone who got in his way. But my heart wasn't in it, and it died with Chapter One.

Then, in 1982, new life was breathed into The Vigilante. Although stuck in Idaho, I dreamed of a faraway place on an encyclopedia map of Arizona: The Baboquivari Mountains (pronounced Bob-o-KEE-vuh-ree). I dreamed up a town that was an oasis near there, south of Tucson. The town was named Castor, the Spanish word for beaver. And into this fictional town rode Captain Tappan Kittery, now a much gentler, deeper character.

In 1982-83, I wrote in pencil in three spiral notebooks, and soon I had finished my first complete novel, The Vigilante, over three hundred pages long. With a borrowed electric typewriter, I then typed up the book after proofreading it myself. I typed it again in 1984, completely, because I had no computer.

In 1985 and 1986, I proofread that typed copy while living in France, and in the absence of a typewriter, rewrote it with a ballpoint pen.

At last, in 1986 and 1987, I had the chance to move to Arizona with my friend Scott Darger and his family. I didn't hesitate. I moved to Mesa, Arizona, a short drive from Tucson. While in Mesa, I made many weekend trips to Tucson and south of it, to the setting of The Vigilante. I rode the hills where the book takes place. I scoured them on foot and by automobile. I mapped and planned and dreamed. And in that time period Tappan Kittery, to me, became a real being, and somehow like a close friend.

I returned to Idaho in June of 1987, bought a word processor, and typed my book again, this time as Season of the Vigilante. Now it seemed real, because I knew all the places I wrote about. I again honed it and reprinted it in 1989. By then, I had met and married my wife, Debra Chatterton. It is because of her that you hold this book in your hands now. She read the book, she loved it, and it was she who pushed for it to be published.

Debbie and her mother met local publishers, Dean and Nancy Hoch. They said they would read my book and give me a critique and possibly some help finding a market. Instead, after Nancy read the book, she asked to be the publisher. Needless to say, I was elated.

I retyped Season of the Vigilante completely on an Apple computer in 1990. I then reworked it again, and it took me three eight-hour days to print it out, in 1991. It was while working on the computers at Idaho State University that I met Chris Taft, and it is due in great part to his friendship and his immense help with the computer that my final draft was able to be printed.

The decision was made by the publishers and myself to divide Season of the Vigilante in half. Thus, it became Book One: The Bloody Season, and Book Two: Season's End. I hope you enjoy them both, and enjoy the story as much as I enjoyed writing it."

Seven years have passed since I wrote those words-a lot of water under the bridge. And I've thought of many things I wish I had written in my author's note back then. With your kind permission (or without it), I would like to write them now.

The number one most important point I'd like to bring out is how my admiration for one Western actor who was nearly larger than the silver screen he filled became the inspiration for my main character, Captain Tappan Kittery. If you see a little of Cheyenne Bodie-of Clint Walker-in the broad shoulders, the dark hair, and the blue eyes of Tappan Kittery, it is not by mistake. When I was young, he became the icon I strove to emulate, both on screen and in real life. It was almost as if I had no choice but to model my first protagonist, who was also bigger than life, after Clint Walker, the man who captured my dreams and those of so many other Americans.

Secondly, I'd be remiss in not thanking the Louis Marx Toy company for being indirectly responsible for the creation of the story of The Vigilante. For those of you who don't have the fond memories that thousands of us do of Marx's Johnny West dolls, let me paint you a picture. Johnny West rode into the homes of tens of thousands of children from the mid-1960's to the mid-1970's, a light brown plastic-clothed man with reddish brown hair and a penchant for adventure. He stood eleven and one half inches tall and came housed in a thin cardboard box, its lid taped once on each side. (This is very memorable as my brother and I had to sneak a pocketknife into King's toy store every year when Christmas drew near to cut this tape and pick the best of the dolls!)

Johnny West had family, too, and friends. Not the least of these was Captain Tom Maddox. To make a long story short, over several Christmases and birthdays, and through the shopping trips provided by strenuous winters of shoveling neighborhood sidewalks, the collection of Marx dolls owned by my brothers and me became quite impressive. It was natural that this should carry over into my love of Western literature.

And so, in the summer after my junior year of high school, I began to fashion a western town, complete with a working gallows, wagons whose wheels I carved out of solid pieces of pine, a water tower and a cantina with swinging doors that really swung. I dressed Johnny West up in clothes I sewed myself, glued real hair from wigs, our dogs, and my own head, to their heads and faces. The Captain Tom Maddox doll became Captain Tappan Kittery. And then, borrowing Mom's '64 Chevy pickup, I headed out into the mountains to create a town. Along Cedar Creek, up the Blackfoot River, I built the town of Castor, replete with corrals, a sign welcoming visitors to Castor, and enough odd characters like monks and fancy gamblers and freighters to give the place some cultural diversity. We even found a cave, which became the Desperado Den of the book.

I spent a week creating intricate scenes in which I used cotton balls to form gunsmoke, fishing line to hold up falling guns, hats, or men who were supposed to appear as if they were in mid-air. I even went so far as to drag a sharp stick through the street to create wagon tracks. Yep. This, folks, is how Castor and the Season of the Vigilante were born. And in the eight days I spent up Cedar Creek, I was only caught once, by some folks going fishing. They had the audacity of commenting of me and my brother, "Aren't they a little old to be playing with dolls?" I guess we were. But play we did.

Taking all the slides gleaned from this trip, I wrote my first draft of the book, after going through them trying to make sense of the week's work. I still own the slide show-a prized possession.

And so the games of childhood managed to create a bridge between youth and a shaky manhood my wife claims I still haven't made it to. If I have my way I never will.

Then came the perils of having the books published. As I said in my original "author's note," the publishers and I made the decision to cut the book in half. As for my part, I made that decision because my other choice was to cut it in thirds. But cutting it in half still became one of the most disastrous publishing choices I can imagine. We waited and waited, far too long, and the second half of the book came out over a year after the first, which left my readers hanging. Many of them forgot all about me by then. Consequently, it took four years to sell all of those books.

I didn't want to let Tappan Kittery and Castor die, but I never wanted to see a divided book again. And so, in the last two years, I made the decision to rejoin the books, the way I always knew they were meant to be. I couldn't name it Season of the Vigilante. No, it has been recreated, added to, refined. You'll find in this book a story more the way I would have written it had I done so today, although the basic plot is the same. And so I named it after one of the several songs I wrote for the book. The Devil's Trail. Then, shortly before publication, I discovered that a friend of mine, another author, had taken the title for his newly published book that winter. So The Devil's Trail became The Devil's Blood. Here my friends, here is that story.

To Clint Walker, the man who brought Yellowstone Kelly to life on the big screen, rode into the living room every week as Cheyenne Bodie, and drove the dreams of a boy growing up in the West. To Clint Walker, the inspiration for Captain Tappan Kittery.

A note from Clint Walker

I was introduced to Kirby Jonas by my friend, James Drury -- 'The Virginian' -- who narrated four of Kirby's books on audio tape. After listening to three of those audiobooks I, too, became a fan of Kirby Jonas.

Clint Walker, Actor and Writer