James Oliver Curwood, Disciple of the Wilds

by Hobart Donald Swiggett

For weeks to come Jim Curwood worried and fretted over his literary crime. It grieved him to think that he had published something which had not been his own and that he had been paid for it. However, he shortly let the matter drop from his mind after vowing never to repeat the act, no matter how badly he wanted publication. James Oliver Curwood never committed plagiarism again.

In those early struggling days for James Oliver Curwood, there were such magazines on the market as The Wayside Tales, The Four O’Clock, The White Elephant, The Black Cat. To these, and to many others, Jim offered his writings. Unfortunately, they did not see fit to publish young James O. Curwood. Regardless of the rejections he usually got, he always kept Munsey’s Magazine on his list, for it had offered more encouragement and rays of hope than all the other magazines combined.

Then success, in a minor sort of way, came to young Curwood. He received a notice of acceptance from the Gray Goose magazine and $5.00 in payment.

If the neighbors had not known that a young writer lived nearby, there is little doubt but that they would have believed a raving lunatic had invaded the little house on John Street. For at sight of the check, Jim jumped and ran about the house, shouting at the top of his voice, as he waved the green piece of paper wildly above his head. And he had good reason for doing so. “Across the Range” was his first paid-for story. Heretofore he had had several of his stories published, but had never received any compensation for them. Now the “ice had been broken,” and he was on the road to success.

“If the check had been for five-thousand dollars the thrill would not have been greater,” said Jim at the time. For here was the result of ten years of mental anguish and strain; ten years of impatient, but hopeful waiting. Here was what he had been striving for. It hardly seemed true, yet there before his eyes and in his hands was the check.

For many days after this wonderful happening Jim was held in the throes of excitement, the likes of which he had never known before in all his life. At last he could call himself a professional writer. The beacons of happiness and earnestness shone bright in the teen-aged youth’s head, for at last his dream was coming true.

Feeling that he had at last struck the right chord Jim wrote hot, scorching letters to all the editors who had previously rejected his stories. Many of them replied in due time by saying, in effect, “we have never heard of the Gray Goose before.”

It was not long before young Jim began to believe many things about himself that as yet were not exactly true. He even felt himself to be on an equal status with his idol, Fred Janette. He also believed that now that fame and glory had taken a quick look at him, he should resume his normal life and turn out still more yarns. Stories which would sell many, many copies of the magazines in which they would appear. Stories that would hold their readers spellbound from beginning to end. Stories that would provide hope, inspiration and ambition to those who might have grown weary of the struggle. He wanted to write so that in his works there would be a message for all.

For a long time Jim had wanted a bicycle of his own. He had borrowed his friends’ bikes many times, but neither they nor he approved so very much of this policy. He had been saving his money in the hope of accumulating enough to purchase one for himself, but he began to realize that it would take a long, long time for him to save up the fabulous sum that a new bicycle would cost.

One day early in June of 1896, young Jim Curwood, now past seventeen years of age, had one of the most pleasant surprises of his life. Mr. Curwood bought his growing young son a bicycle all his own on which Jim was free to ride whenever and wherever he chose.