I have a prized 1931 edition of Will James' Sun Up, a collection of short stories recounting colorful cowboy adventures in the early West. It's a splendid book, filled with James' pen-and-ink sketches and such characters as rodeo rider Sandy Bordel with his hand-engraved lucky spurs and the aging no-quit bronc buster Dave Simmons. No wonder James inspired generations of kids to dream of being real cowboys.

While James faithfully depicted cowboy life, the story he created about his own origins was a bit of a tall tale. He claimed to have been born in a covered wagon near Great Falls, Montana — in truth, he was a Canadian of French descent named Ernest Dufault. Cattle rustling sent him to prison, where he began writing and drawing. After his release, his first novel, Smoky the Cowhorse, won the 1927 Newbery Medal. James had more than 20 books published before hard living took its toll and he died at age 50.

The West seems to engender that kind of merging of fact with fiction — in this issue, we encounter the mix a couple of times. Dennis Quaid talks about his role as Sam Houston in the upcoming The Alamo, which aims to adhere more closely to purported fact than some of its predecessors (Davy Crockett will not sport a coonskin cap) without diminishing the beloved heroes of Texas history. And Viggo Mortensen takes on the role of cowboy Frank T. Hopkins in Disney's new film Hidalgo, which is based on a "true" story whose factuality is dubious at best. "I don't think the tall-tale aspect of this story — which, after all, is a big part of the story of America and how we see ourselves — will offend anyone," Mortensen says. "Because I think the myths are used to touch on things that are interesting and truthful."

Hidalgo looks to be a good ride. As for The Alamo, I'm probably going to prefer Davy Crockett of the Fess Parker variety, whether he actually "patched up the crack in the Liberty Bell" or not.

For me, the highlight of this issue is a tale that is anything but tall. It's the story of Roy Rogers and Trigger as told by the King of the Cowboys' adopted daughter Cheryl Rogers-Barnett in an excerpt from her new book, Cowboy Princess. "Dad always told me there was a genuine connection between the two of them, right from the first time he sat in the saddle," Barnett says.

Embellished or not, the cowboy will endure as long as we can saddle a horse and hitch on a pair of spurs. In the introduction to the stories in Sun Up, Will James encourages faith in the lasting power of the West and the true cowboy way of life: "It took two generations to make the cowboy and it will take many more to lose him."

Now that's something worth believing.