Dust Devil (review)

The heroine of Isaacs' original tall tale Swamp Angel (BCCB 11/94) has "moved west to Montana, a country so sizeable that even Angel could fit in." Not that the move is without its contretemps—some buttes have to be strategically replaced to shade her cabin from the sun, and the cows that get entangled in her sprouting corn stalks are whisked skyward to wait out the growing season. A thundering gale that scours the open terrain happily produces a giant flying horse that Angel names Dust Devil, who becomes a sidekick that will serve her well as she takes on a band of varmints "too ornery for any self-respecting horse to carry. So they rode mosquitoes." The aerial battle between the giantess and Backward Bart and his Flying Desperadoes involves some rock-hard biscuits and broken teeth, but order returns to Montana when Angel lures the bad guys into the "single-starred, double-barred, triple-guard jail" in Billings, and the riderless mosquitoes take to drilling holes for geysers. Zelinsky reprises the visual style of Angel's first adventure, rollicking oil paintings applied to wood veneers. The audience will want to make several return trips to closely inspect the illustrations for subtly incorporated gems—a tiny red dog caught between Angel's toes, Backward Bart's signature footwear, Angel knitting a river with a pair of pine trees. Isaacs drops a strong hint that Angel's antics may have precipitated a gold rush out in California, "but that's another story." Let's hope so.