Land of the Burnt Thigh ed. by Eudora Kohl, and: Sand in My Eyes by Seigniora Russell Laune (review)

366 Western American Literature interesting issues for scholars of women’s history and the history of the West— not the least being the continued “invisibility” of these women as compared to their male counterparts. Jordan, who interviewed over one hundred cowgirls ranging in age from sixteen to ninety-eight, is a skillful interviewer. She elicits a wealth of material, not only about ranch and rodeo life, but also about the private world of these women’semotions—of satisfaction in a job well done, of joy, of sorrow. Jordan also proves to be a talented writer, as shown in her opening description of a contemporary Montana cowgirl assisting a struggling heifer to give birth. Her excellent selection of photographs further conveys the drama and the danger which is a routine part of the cowgirl’s life. KAREN S. LANGLOIS The Huntington Library Land of the Burnt Thigh. By Edith Eudora Kohl. (St. Paul: Minnesota His­ torical Society Press, 1986. 296 pages, $7.95.) Sand in My Eyes. By Seigniora Russell Laune. (Norman: University of Okla­ homa Press, 1986. 256 pages, $7.95.) Both of these books on women’s homesteading experiences, reprinted in 1986 after original publications in 1938 and 1956 respectively, provide us with detailed accounts of frontier life. The contrasts are fascinating, however, between Kohl’s account of herself as the woman of letters who does a man’s job, and Laune’s frank story of herself as a lady transported to the prairies. In Land of the Burnt Thigh, Kohl begins her life on the South Dakota frontier as Edith Ammons, a proof sheet printer helping settlers to establish legal ownership of their land; in time she is reporter, editor, and printer of her own paper, The Reservation Wand. The continued practice of that vocation is evident in her writing; her independence comes through in the sureness and clarity of her style. Kohl takes upon herself the reporter’s task of telling the story not only of herself, but of a whole wave of immigrants to that part of South Dakota. Glenda Riley’s scholarly introduction takes Kohl’s message seriously, and places her in context with a number of other women home­ steaders who left written records of their experiences. Kohl’s is a story of a “girl homesteader,” who comes to the new territory acompanied only by her sister, both without husbands or other male relatives. Edith exhibits a desire for wildness and a yen for adventure not present in all homesteaders—once things get too settled for her on her first claim, she decides to push on to the Lower Brule Indian Reservation lands, where she will be forced once again to meet the most elemental demands of pioneer life. Seigniora Russell, although happy as a teenager to move from Little Rock, Arkansas to a rough new part of Texas when her father’shealth requires Reviews 367 it, tells the story of her own desires, divided between the comforts of “civiliza­ tion” and the beauty of the prairies. She marries early and spends her life following her husband, to whom she always refers as “Mr. Laune.” A good half of her narrative is devoted to events in her own emotional life, especially with her husband. There is a quaintness to her storytelling, with occasional bright nuggets of polite self-irony, when she describes the meeting between the customs of civilized life and the realities of her environment. Her style is anecdotal and genteel; while Mr. Laune talks her patroniz­ ingly into further pioneering, she longs for “the fleshpots of Egypt”—such places as Omaha or Denver, where people enjoy electric lights, running water, and other amenities of city life. However, Mr. Laune’s project is to establish and populate towns in the wild prairies of Oklahoma, and there to found Shakespeare clubs and Coterie clubs, along with more practical projects. Seigniora Laune agrees, if not cheerfully, to follow his every scheme, but her self-awareness in reflection brings her to this observation about acquiescence: “I stuck to my usual formula, ‘Whatever you think best, is all right with me.’ That is a form of dishonesty that now makes me blush. It gives a woman a...