Into The Present
By: Rona Y.
Looking
up in surprise as a shadow fell on him, Sam Wolfe saw an older man, grim-faced,
sweating and dirty. He hesitated momentarily before speaking. Might as well get his claim in first, he thought. He
couldn’t see how this stranger had anything to do with the young man he had
just hunted down, but it never hurt to be careful. “Well, howdy, friend. Just finished myself off a horse thief. Caught
him stealin’ my horses last night.”
“You’re
a liar!” the other man said, his voice low, but distinct.
Wolfe’s
eyes hardened. It had been a long time since anyone had contradicted him. He
rose from his crouching position by the stream. “Now, lookee, friend…” he
began. “That kinda talk can get you into a lot of trouble.”
“He’s
my son,” Ben Cartwright grated.
On
the other side of Wolfe, Joe Cartwright lifted his head. He was tied up in a
lariat, and suffering from dehydration and exposure. The short exchange between
his father and Wolfe had mostly passed him by. But Ben’s voice suddenly
impinged on his consciousness. “P-Pa?” he gasped, wondering if he was
hallucinating.
For
a second, Wolfe looked disconcerted. His pale blue eyes flickered back to the
boy he had taken captive. Ben’s eyes never left him. His hand hovered by his
gun. Wolfe knew he had no choice but to kill both the boy and his father. He
reached for his gun.
The
shot reverberated round the sand dunes. Sam Wolfe collapsed to the desert
floor, dead. Wolfe’s horse started and ran off a few paces. But the horse was
too hot and tired to run off. In fact, Wolfe had all but ridden it into the
ground, and it would be lucky if it survived much longer.
For
a second, Ben just stood there, then he jumped across
the stream and hurried to Joe’s side. After a single look at his youngest son,
Ben hurried back to pick up Wolfe’s discarded canteen. A moment later, he was
kneeling by Joe, supporting the youth as he tilted the canteen to Joe’s mouth.
Eagerly,
Joe began to gulp the tepid liquid. “Joe, that’s enough for now,” Ben said,
taking it back. He feared Joe would be sick if allowed to drink his fill all at
once.
Reluctantly,
Joe relinquished the canteen. “Thanks, Pa,” he gasped. He lay in his father’s
arms and gazed up at him. Joe had been convinced he would never see his family
again. “Pa…”
“Shh,
don’t talk now, boy,” Ben said, reaching to untie the ropes that still bound
his son.
“I
must talk,” Joe protested. One hand went up to clutch at Ben’s vest. “There was
a vaquero with me, Emiliano.”
“I
spoke with him,” Ben evaded, avoiding Joe’s eyes.
“Then
he’s alive?” Joe said, relief and joy in his voice.
“No,”
Ben said, shortly.
For
a moment, Joe just looked at Ben, denial in his heart. Then it hit him, and
tears filled his eyes. He turned his head into Ben’s chest, seeking comfort
from the only source he could remember. “Emiliano,” he croaked. Ben clutched
him tighter, trying to ease his son’s grief.
“He
wanted you to get through,” Ben said. “You and the horse.”
He felt a pang of regret, for he had seen the dead horse, and it had indeed
been magnificent – the physical symbol of the love his sons bore for him.
“He
was a good friend,
Clutching
his son tightly to his chest, Ben said, “I have my gift, son.” His voice shook.
He had come so close to losing this son. He sniffed back the tears.
There
was the thunder of hooves from behind them. Ben helped Joe to sit up and began
to unravel the ropes from around him. Joe reached for the canteen, his thirst
over-powering, and took another deep draught.
“Joe!”
Hoss and Adam hurried over to kneel by their brother, to touch him and see for
themselves that he was still alive.
“He’s
all right, boys,” Ben said. He felt a great sense of relief. Joe had somehow
avoided the rampaging Apaches and survived the commancheros. He was dirty, exhausted and dehydrated – but
he was alive! “Let’s get him home.”
Helping
Joe to his feet, Adam looped his brother’s right arm around his own shoulders
and Hoss moved in to support Joe on the other side. Together, they walked their
younger sibling to the horses. Ben went to the stream to refill the canteen. He
knelt, then glanced skywards. “Thanks,” he whispered;
only the one word, but a wealth of feeling and meaning in it. He knew the
Almighty would understand.
It
was clear that Joe couldn’t mount without help, so Hoss practically lifted him
onto Sport. “I’m right glad you ain’t had your scalp lifted, Shortshanks,” Hoss
said.
“Me,
too,” Joe agreed, and pushed down the high crown of Hoss’ ten-gallon hat.
“Dadburnit,
Little Joe!” Hoss spluttered, snatching off the
offending headgear and bashing it back into shape. “You’ll be walkin’ back if’n
you ain’t careful!”
Laughing,
Adam said, “Well, your sense of humour hasn’t improved while you’ve been away.”
He patted Joe’s leg. “I’m glad to see you, too, little buddy.”
“Let’s
go, boys,” Ben said, coming up beside them. “We don’t want the Apaches finding
us here!” He glanced over at Wolfe’s horse. The poor beast was down already.
With a sigh, Ben went over and put it out of its misery.
“You
ride
Both
Adam and Hoss laughed at the expression on Ben’s face. Joe looked quizzical,
but the sun was beating down on his bare head again, and he was beginning to
feel unwell. “All right,” Ben agreed, for he had pushed himself earlier. He
swung onto Chubb’s broad back.
“Ready?”
Adam asked, looking up at Joe. He saw at once that his brother didn’t look too
good, and guessed the reason. Taking his hat off, he plonked it down on Joe’s
head. “You leave that hat where it is,” he threatened, “and just sit. I’ll take
care of everything.”
“All
right,” Joe agreed. He closed his eyes, but the movement of the horse
threatened to send him to sleep, and Joe wasn’t ready for that yet. He opened
them again, and looked about.
They
were taking a different route than the one he had used, and it suddenly
occurred to Joe to wonder why they had come looking for him, and how they had
found him. Why was Ben on foot? Where was his horse? He thought about asking,
but the effort required was just too much. Now that he wasn’t alone any more,
the adrenalin had drained from Joe’s body, and he was finding it hard just to
stay awake and upright.
After
a time, they came across Buck standing patiently in the desert. Nearby was the
white horse. Ben helped Joe down from Sport while Adam and Hoss went over to
look at the horse. This was the first time they had seen it. Joe felt a surge
of guilt. He had had no choice but to ride the white horse to safety, and Wolfe’s shot had done it severe injury. But
still, there it lay – the ruination of a year’s worth
of planning. He lay back on the sand and closed his eyes.
Around
him, Joe could hear his family talking as they saddled Buck and made
preparations to move on. The last thing he wanted to do was move on, but Joe
was aware that with the Apaches on the warpath, they had stretched their luck
as far as they were willing for the time being. Rolling onto his side, Joe
propped himself on his elbow and reached for the canteen again. He drank
deeply, until a warm hand caressed his head and gently took the canteen from
him. “Take it easy,” Ben cautioned. “You don’t want to overload your stomach.”
With
Buck ready to go, Joe was again helped to his feet. His abused muscles trembled
as he mounted Chubb, and he wanted nothing more than to lie down on that broad
back and go to sleep. He still had Adam’s hat on, and he saw with amusement
that Adam was wearing Hoss’ ten-gallon hat. The sight brought a few giggles to
Joe’s lips, and for a moment, seeing Adam’s mock-indignant face, he felt much
better.
Before
long, even the sight of Adam in Hoss’ hat couldn’t raise a smile on Joe’s lips.
His endurance trickled away along with the afternoon hours, and he knew it
wouldn’t be long before he could go no further. He hadn’t realised the distance
he had covered on the big white horse. There was no way they could get back to
Tyson Wells that night. Or at least, not with one man always
having to walk.
A
cold breeze drifted aimlessly across the desert as the sun began to drop. Ben
looked around for a suitable place to camp. He thought it unlikely that the
Apaches would come this deep into the desert, but one never knew. He didn’t
want them camping in the open. However, nothing suitable appeared, and so they
rode on. Joe was done in, Ben knew, but he wanted somewhere defensible, if at
all possible.
“Pa,
what about there?” Adam said, pointing. Ben
gazed that way, peering slightly in the uncertain light. When had it become so
dark? He nodded. Adam’s resting place looked as good as they could hope for,
and they turned that way, unconsciously quickening their pace.
Up
close, the place was all they had hoped for. The walls curved round, making a
secure place where no one could come at their backs. They were hidden from immediate
view, and they were sheltered from the night wind, which might make their fire
smoke.
Leading
the horses in, Ben slid from Buck’s back to help Joe, but found his older sons
there already. Joe could barely stand, and Ben hastily snatched his bedroll
from the back of his saddle, and spread it out on the ground. Adam and Hoss
eased Joe down onto it, and his distress was plain for all to see. His lips
were cracked and sore; his skin was glimmering with sweat. Cramp
spasmed through his muscles, causing him to groan with pain. He shivered
occasionally.
“You
tend to
Kneeling
by Joe, Ben gave him some more water. Their ration was dropping slowly but
surely, and tomorrow, they would have to try and find some more somewhere.
“Supper will be ready soon, “ Ben said, wrapping the
bedroll round Joe.
“I’m
not hungry,” Joe whispered, his voice as cracked as
his lips. His nose was sunburned and peeling. His eyes were red with fatigue.
He shivered. “I’m just tired.”
“You’re
tired because you haven’t eaten,” Ben scolded, gently. “How long is it since
you ate?”
“Dunno,”
Joe said, and sighed disconsolately. “I just wanna sleep,
“I
know,” Ben sympathised. “But not yet, Joe. You must
eat. Listen to me! You must eat!”
He
kept talking to his son, keeping him awake while Adam and Hoss prepared supper
with miraculous speed. The meal wasn’t up to Hop Sing’s standards, but it was
pretty good. While Adam curried the tired horses, and fixed up the bedding,
Hoss put some bacon into a pot, along with a little of the dried vegetables
they carried, and made a sort of soup. It smelled good, and tasted better, and
it was easy for Joe to eat. The saltiness of the bacon helped counteract the
cramps he was suffering, and the fluid helped his dehydration. By the time he
had eaten a few mouthfuls, Joe did indeed feel a little better,
and settled straight to sleep after eating.
The
other three Cartwrights sat around their small fire after Joe had fallen
asleep. “He’s not going to be able to go on tomorrow, is he?” Adam asked, and
it didn’t sound like a question.
“No,
it doesn’t look like it,” Ben answered, reluctantly. “He’s used up all his
energy, and with not having enough to drink, that’s made everything worse. It
doesn’t help that we’re one horse down. That’s slowed us right down. I don’t
know if we could reach Tyson Wells tomorrow even if Joe is able to go on. We
need more water and another horse.”
They
were silent for a while, sipping the coffee Hoss had made. “In the morning,
Hoss and I will go and look for water,” Adam said. “You stay here with Joe.
Perhaps he might know where the outlaw’s camp is from here. After all, Cochise
must be somewhere, and Joe didn’t mention anything happening to him.”
“That
sounds like a good idea, Adam,” Hoss said, before Ben could jump in and say
anything. He knew what his father was thinking – they both did. Ben was worried
about the Apaches, and didn’t want his sons wandering around the desert without
him. However, it was clear to them all that Joe wouldn’t be up to any wondering
around the next day, or maybe even the day after, if they didn’t get enough
water. They would be extremely lucky if Joe didn’t succumb to heat stroke.
“I’ll
stand first watch,” Adam said, picking up his rifle.
“Then
me,” Hoss offered, knowing that Ben was tired out, emotionally as well as
physically. “Then I’ll wake you, Pa,” he promised.
As
Adam took up position, the other two rolled themselves in bedrolls. Ben glanced
across at Joe once more before closing his eyes, but his youngest son still
slept deeply. Once more, Ben sent up a prayer to the Almighty, thanking him for
saving Joe’s life, and asking that they might all manage to get to safety.
Finally, Ben slept.
****************
Morning
came with the promise of another blisteringly hot day. The secluded place where
they had spent the night offered some respite from the sun, and Ben was glad.
Joe was in no state to travel anywhere. He was feverish and exhausted. Ben had
to rouse him to eat, and he wanted to go back to sleep almost immediately
after.
“Joe,
you’ve got to help us here,” Adam said, allowing his brother to lean wearily
against his shoulder. “Where is the outlaw’s camp from here? Do you know?”
Frowning
as he looked around, Joe finally pointed over to the west. “That way, I think.
It was due west from the mesa where Emiliano and I fought Wolfe and the
commancheros.” He looked at Adam. “Are we going there?”
“Not
you, buddy,” Adam said. “Hoss and I.
We have to try and get some water. An extra horse would be nice, too, since I’m
getting pretty tired of walking all the time. So we thought we’d see what was
on offer at the camp.”
“I
don’t know if everyone is gone from there or not,” Joe said, looking alarmed.
“There could be others that stayed behind.”
“Don’t you worry none, Punkin,” Hoss said, comfortingly.
“We’ll be right careful, I promise ya that.” He grinned. “’Sides, ain’t your
pony likely to still be there?”
“Cochise,”
Joe said. “Yes, he must be. Why didn’t I think of that for myself?” He put his
hand up to his aching head. “Of course Cochise must be there, along with my
saddle, gun and gear. It must all be there.”
“Well,
that’s a good reason to see if we can get there, isn’t it?” Adam said, calmly. He
glanced at Ben, who hovered anxiously over his youngest son. “You stay here and
keep Pa out of mischief, and we’ll be back as soon as we can.”
“You
be careful,” Ben pleaded, as the boys mounted up. “And
hurry back.” He stood and watched them for several minutes, before turning back
to Joe. However, his youngest didn’t need his company just at that moment. He
had fallen asleep once more.
****************
It
was a long day for Joe and Ben. The desert was absolutely still and silent,
apart from a hot wind that blew their way every so often. Ben kept an anxious
watch at the entrance to their little hiding place, but he saw nothing more
than a snake moving all day. Joe slept a great deal, although Ben woke him
regularly for water and food. The water in the canteens was stale and flat, but
it was wet. Joe drank eagerly whenever he was offered it. Ben drank almost
nothing himself. They needed to conserve their water as best they could, in
case Adam and Hoss didn’t find any, or didn’t return.
About
mid-afternoon, Joe woke once more, and seemed more alert this time. He sat up,
and ate the food Ben offered him. “Pa, how did you know to come looking for
me?” he asked. His voice was still weary.
Quietly,
Ben told him about the army scout returning to Tyson Wells, and how Adam and
Hoss had confessed why Joe had gone to
In
return, Joe told Ben about Emiliano. “He worked for Colonel Green, the man we
bought the horse from,” Joe explained. “He had been one of Wolfe’s
commancheros, which is how he knew of the camp. We didn’t have a choice,
“I
know,” Ben said. “But I would have been even sorrier about you, son. When your
brothers told me where you had gone…” Ben’s voice trailed off, for he couldn’t
say that his heart had skipped a beat. “We’ll get back to Tyson Wells
tomorrow,” he said, “and you can rest properly there. We’ll get a doctor to
look at you.”
“I’m
all right,” Joe protested, automatically. He tried a smile, but the skin on his
lips was still tender, and he winced. “Honest.”
Smiling,
Ben ruffled his son’s tangled curls. Joe was still warm to the touch, and Ben
just hoped he would be fit enough to ride on the next day. A finger of sunlight
suddenly reached across the blanket covering Joe’s legs, and Ben pulled him
back into the shade. It was something he had done throughout the day, as the
sun had crept into their retreat. Joe could not afford to get sunstroke.
All
too soon, Joe was dozing again, and Ben was gazing out at the empty desert.
Where were Hoss and Adam?
****************
They
rode warily through the desert, watching around them for any signs that they
weren’t alone. They saw nothing, although they were both aware that the Indians
could spring from anywhere without warning. By mid-morning, Hoss had found
tracks that led in the direction that they wanted to go, and they followed
them. A short while after that, they spied the buildings that fitted Joe’s
description of Sam Wolfe’s camp.
Dismounting,
they made their way closer, watching for any signs of life. They saw none,
apart from the horses in the corral. Leaving their own horses tethered, the
brothers split up and eased closer. There were no signs of human life. Finally,
they were standing in the small yard, huts on either side. A body lay partially
hidden in some bushes, and when they investigated the huts more closely, they
found another two corpses. One they guessed was Wolfe’s brother, and the others
were Mexicans.
“Let’s
gather up the food and any canteens we can find,” Adam suggested. “I’ll saddle
Cochise, and we’ll see if we can find Joe’s gear.” He glanced around. “Just
keep alert.”
“Sure
thing,” Hoss agreed, and hunted through the huts for what foodstuffs he could
find.
It
didn’t take them long to get ready. Adam had found Cochise fit and well, and
the saddle in the barn. Hoss had found Joe’s gun, rifle and gun belt, along
with his wallet, still containing several hundred dollars, in one of the huts.
Between them, they had unearthed half a dozen canteens, and filled them all
from the well. Adam had also found some ammunition, and had taken it, too. On
the ground, they came across Joe’s black hat.
“Let’s
get out of here,” Adam suggested. “We’ve lingered too long.”
“Pa
and Little Joe will sure be worried,” Hoss agreed. They hurried back to where
they had left their horses, unaccountably relieved to find them still there.
They hastily watered the horses, then mounted up for
the long trek back to their campsite.
Some
instinct, deep seated and primeval, warned them that they were not alone. Yet,
every time they looked round, they saw nothing. The desert shimmered with heat,
and a number of times, Adam reached for his gun, only to discover that what he
saw wasn’t there at all. Hoss led the way, following the tracks they had made
earlier. The desert was featureless, and Adam wasn’t sure he would have found
his way back without Hoss’ tracking ability.
“Not
far now,” Hoss said, as they rested during the late afternoon. He wiped sweat
from his head and looked around. “I sure feel like there’s someone out there
watchin’ us,” he added, in an undertone. “But I plumb cain’t spot anythin’.”
“Me,
too,” Adam agreed. “Let’s push on.” They mounted and rode off.
“There
it is,” Hoss said, pointing across the desert. “That’s where we’re camped.”
“Let’s
hurry it up a bit then,” Adam suggested, urging Sport into a ground-covering
lope. The chestnut’s coat was dark with sweat, but Adam thought that a little
speed wouldn’t do the animal any harm. It turned out to be a fortuitous
decision.
A
shot rang out and bit into the ground where Adam had been only moments before.
Glancing over his shoulder as he urged his horses to greater speed, Adam saw
Indians streaming over a rise behind them. Most appeared to be carrying rifles,
and one or two had bows and arrows.
“Ride!”
Adam urged, and Hoss needed no such urging. They galloped across the desert,
returning fire as they went.
**************
The
gunfire jerked Joe out of sleep, and his eyes opened wide. Ben was crouched at
the entrance to their hiding place, his rifle up and ready. “What is it?” Joe
gasped.
“Indians
after Adam and Hoss,” Ben explained, not looking round.
Throwing
off the blankets, Joe stumbled to his feet, groping for the nearest rifle. He
took up a position near to Ben, and aimed. He was disconcerted to discover that
his hand was shaking. He peered into the bright light, and saw his brothers
coming hell-for-leather across the sand, and he noticed at once that Adam had
Cochise, too.
It
was Hoss who reached safety first. He hauled Chubb into the camp area, jumping
down and pushing the horse out of the way. He drew his rifle from his scabbard,
and stepped aside as Adam entered in a rush.
“Here,
Joe,” Adam said, and handed Joe his own rifle, reclaiming his one at the same
time. He gave his youngest brother a searching look as he knelt beside him, but
Joe seemed to be all right. After that, there was little time to watch him.
The
Indians fanned out, firing at the bluff where the Cartwrights had sought
shelter. They returned fire, attempting to get the Indians scattering at first,
but finally aiming at the braves when they saw that they weren’t going to
scatter.
The
firefight continued for some time, with no gains for either side. Finally, the
light faded, and the Indians withdrew. Joe sank down behind the rocks and
closed his eyes. Adam, after checking that Ben and Hoss were still on watch,
drew back, too, and knelt by Joe. “All right, buddy?” he asked. He could see a
fresh bloody graze on Joe’s head, but it wasn’t serious. They were all marked
by such minor injuries.
Opening
his eyes, Joe tried for a smile. “I’m all right, Adam,” he assured him. “Just tired. Are you all right?” He reached out a dirty,
shaking hand, and traced the path of a scratch down Adam’s cheek.
“We’re
all fine,” Adam said. “You get some rest, now. They won’t attack while its dark.”
“I
can take my turn standing watch,” Joe insisted. “They might take the chance and
attack. We haven’t killed any.”
By
now, Ben had crawled over. “Joe, you’ll do what you’re told!” he said,
mock-sternly. “You need to rest, so we can get out of here tomorrow.”
The
exhausted youth just looked at Ben disbelievingly. There was no way they were
going to get out of there the next day, or even the day after. They were
trapped, and it was only a matter of time before the Apaches stormed their
hideout, trusting to the superiority of numbers to give them victory. “Sure,
Pa,” he said, dully.
The
Cartwrights ate a cold meal of the food that Hoss had stuffed into his
saddlebags. One of them stood watch at all times, and they kept their heads
down. The sky was clear and cloudless, and a full moon shone out brightly. Ben,
looking at it as it rode high in the sky, cursed it. If the night had been dark
and moonless, they might have tried to escape. Like Joe, Ben didn’t think they
were going to get out of this fix. If only the army would come looking for
them, but based on his conversation with the lieutenant before they left Tyson
Wells, he thought it extremely unlikely.
“I’ll
stand first watch,” Ben said. “You get some rest.”
Nodding,
for they were exhausted, Adam and Hoss went to lie down. Joe was already
wrapped in his bedroll, but he wasn’t asleep. “I can take a watch,” he
insisted.
Glancing
between his parent and sibling, Adam saw that they weren’t going to be able to
sort this one out without heated words, which none of them needed right then.
Ben was too tired and worried to see that Joe thought this whole situation was
his fault, and was determined to do what he could to expiate that guilt.
“If
we need you to take a watch, Joe,” he said, over-riding what Ben had started to
say, “we’ll waken, you don’t worry. But that will be later in the night, all
right?”
Scowling
darkly at Adam, Joe tried to figure out what was wrong with that statement, but
he couldn’t quite get it. He was done in, even though he wouldn’t admit it. He
nodded, finally. “All right,” he agreed. “But waken me.” He lay down and closed
his eyes. Within a few seconds, his body relaxed, his breathing evened out and
the frown disappeared as he eased into a deep sleep.
“Thank
you, Adam,” Ben said. “I don’t know what’s got into the boy.”
“He’s
feeling guilty,” Adam said, marvelling that Ben couldn’t see it for himself.
Ben knew Joe better than anyone else.
“I
know,” Ben admitted, sitting down by Joe for a moment, and succumbing to the
temptation to stroke his head. “He’s still running a slight temperature,” he
said, concerned. “I wish I knew how we were going to get out of this,” he
concluded.
“Let’s
see what happens in the morning,” Adam said. “Waken me when you need to.”
“Sleep
well, son,” Ben said. He went back to his post, and looked out. There was no sign
of movement. “Please Lord, help us,” he prayed.
*****************
The
night passed peacefully with no alarms to spoil the little rest they got. Just
before dawn, Adam roused Joe, urging him to stand watch for a few minutes while
Hoss prepared some food. Joe looked a little better, to everyone’s relief. His
eyes were clearer, and his hands shook less. His muscle tone was better, too.
All
too soon, dawn crept over the land, stealing away the only defence they had –
the darkness. Grimly, the Cartwrights prepared to defend themselves once more,
knowing that they were facing annihilation, and praying that a miracle might
occur. Ben made sure he had a private word with each son.
“Hoss,
thank you for all you’ve done this trip,” he said. As his son started to
stammer out something, Ben waved the comments away. “You’ve stood by me through
every decision I’ve made, and supported your brothers, too. I love you, son,
and always have. Thank you for that magnificent gift you wanted to give me. I
don’t think I deserve it, but I am touched by your love.”
“Aw,
Pa,” Hoss said, but couldn’t find any other words. He simply flung his arms
round Ben and gave him a squeeze.
Adam
was next. “We’ve been through a lot together,” he said, draping his arm round
Adam’s shoulders. “You’ve been my companion and friend as well as my son. I
don’t think I told you often enough how much that has meant to me over the
years. You gave up your childhood for me, and don’t think I don’t know what
that cost you.”
“It
didn’t cost any more than I was willing to pay,” Adam returned, quietly. He was
very moved by the emotion in Ben’s voice and eyes. “You’ve been both father and
mother to me over the years, Pa, and I know how difficult that’s been. I’ve
tried to show you how much I love you, but I don’t know if I succeeded.”
“You
did, son,” Ben said, softly. “You did.” He gave Adam a brief hug, knowing that,
even in this difficult moment, Adam wouldn’t tolerate more than that.
Talking
to Joe was both easier and more difficult. The boy was so young, and Ben
thought that the dirt streaked liberally on his face made him look even
younger. Yet he had taken a man’s part when he should still be carefree, and
hadn’t voiced any complaint. “Joe, I’m sorry it had to come to this,” Ben said.
“Its all my fault, Pa,” Joe said. He leant his curly head
against Ben’s shoulder, and the gesture warmed his father’s heart.
“No,
its not, but that doesn’t matter, anyway. I’m just sorry that I haven’t been
able to get you safely home, you and your brothers,” he went on. “I love you
all, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for the horse.”
“We
wanted it to be the greatest horse we could find,” Joe said. “Because that was
the only way we could tell you we loved you.” He smiled slightly. “Yet it seems
easier to say that straight out now. I don’t know why.” He reached out and drew
his father into a crushing hug. “I love you, Pa,” he said, huskily.
“And
I love you,” Ben returned, no less huskily.
************
The
morning wore slowly on, and the Apaches didn’t attack. Ben was pleased to see
that each of his sons took time to talk to the others, although he was never to
know what passed between them. But the strain of constant vigilance was
beginning to tell on them all.
Suddenly,
just before
Finally,
the Indians withdrew once more, and the Cartwrights took stock. They still had
quite a bit of ammunition, thanks to the load that Adam had brought back the
day before. None of them had been injured. But how long they could hold out was
another matter.
A
tiny sound made Adam turn, and the cry left his mouth before he had even sorted
out what he was seeing. “Joe!” On the rocks above his youngest brother’s
position, a brave had appeared, knife in hand, and was about to jump on the
unsuspecting youngster.
Not
wasting the time needed to look, Joe just dived flat, causing the Indian to
over-shoot his target, and miss. The other members of the family immediately
headed towards Joe, but shots were suddenly ringing out from below, and they
dived for safety.
Scrambling
to his knees, Joe faced the brave. He had dropped his pistol as he dived, and
was unarmed. He watched as the brave came carefully towards him. Joe had faced
knives in fights before, and he knew better than to rush at him. He braced
himself and waited.
At
once, the brave lunged at Joe, who met the attack perfectly, flipping the
surprise Indian over his head, where he landed with bruising impact. Joe didn’t
give him any time to recover, though. He whirled round and lunged at the downed
man, and a fierce struggle ensued. Each fought for possession of the knife, and
both suffered several shallow cuts as the fight progressed.
But
luck was on Joe’s side. He brought his knee up sharply, catching the brave in
the ribs. He grunted as the air whooshed out of his lungs, and his death-grip on
the knife slackened slightly. It was all the chance Joe needed. He twisted his
arm sharply and plunged the knife between the brave’s ribs. The brave
stiffened, and died.
Panting,
Joe slumped back. He wiped sweat from his brow, and turned to see how his
family were doing. But Joe hadn’t realised that his fight had taken him away
from the protective cover of the rocks, and as he rose from the ground, he was
fully exposed to enemy fire. A fusillade of bullets peppered off the rocks
beside him, but they all missed. However, the silent fire did not. An arrow
struck Joe in the back, and he collapsed soundlessly.
“Joe!”
Ben exclaimed, and, heedless of his own safety, he dived across to his son and
pulled him to shelter. Adam and Hoss increased their fire, and saw the
bow-wielding brave go down for good. “Joe,” Ben said, again, and was rewarded
when Joe opened his eyes slightly.
“Sorry,
Pa,” he whispered, although Ben couldn’t imagine what he had to be sorry for.
It had been torture for Ben, unable to get to Joe to
help him fight off the brave, but he had been pinned down by cross fire.
“Shh,
son, its all right,” Ben soothed. He started to
unbutton Joe’s shirt. “I’ve got to see how deep this arrow is in,” he said.
“I’ll try not to hurt you, son.”
Puling
Joe’s shirt away, Ben saw that the arrow had struck him on his left shoulder
blade, and wasn’t in too deeply. It would be possible to pull it out by hand,
but Ben knew this would cause Joe a lot of pain. It would have to be done, and
Joe was pale enough already. Ben bit his lip.
“Pa!”
It was Adam, and he sounded excited. Raising his head, Ben glanced round to see
what was happening. As he did so, he realised that although the sound of
shooting hadn’t diminished, it was no longer aimed at them. He frowned, puzzled,
unable to understand what was going on. “It’s the army, Pa!” Adam shouted. “The army!”
The
army! It was the miracle they needed. Ben spared a moment to thank the Lord,
before beckoning to Adam. “Come and help me with Joe,” he said, and both his sons
slid down to where Joe lay.
After
a quick consultation, it was decided that Hoss would pull the arrow out, and
Adam and Ben would hold Joe down. “Quickly, son,” Ben urged Hoss, who took the
arrow in his mighty hand and pulled. It came free instantly, and Joe let out a
cry of pain before slumping down unconscious.
Leaving
Ben to tend to their brother, Adam and Hoss went back to their positions to see
if there was any way they could assist the army in driving off the Indians. Ben
heard them shoot a few times, but he was more concerned with Joe.
The
wound on his shoulder bled freely once the arrow was out, and Ben sacrificed
Joe’s shirt to make bandages. The small cuts he had received from the brave’s
knife needed cleaning so that infection didn’t set in, and Ben soon had Joe’s
left arm in a makeshift sling. By then, Joe was conscious again. He took the
water Ben pressed on him, and lay back. Ben stroked
his head. “How do you feel, son?” he asked.
“Sore,”
Joe replied, honestly. “I’m tired,
“I know, Joe. It’ll be over soon, and we’ll
get you to a doctor. You just rest while you can.” Ben glanced up at his other
sons. Joe tiredly followed his gaze. It relieved him to see Adam and Hoss were
all right, but it was a distant relief. Joe’s body was rebelling against the
abuses of the previous day, and he could barely keep his eyes open. He blinked,
wondering why he could hear gunfire when none of his family was using their
weapons.
“Who’s
shooting?” he asked, finally.
“The
army,” Ben answered. “We’ve been saved, Joe.”
“Here
they come,” Adam called down, and stood up, waving to signal their position.
Within
a short time, the army patrol was crowded round the entrance to the
Cartwrights’ campsite. Ben went forward to greet the lieutenant he had spoken to
at Tyson Wells. Adam retrieved a shirt from Ben’s saddlebags and eased Joe into
it. “Lieutenant, I’m delighted to see you,” Ben said, clasping the other’s
out-stretched hand. “I thought we were goners.”
“Luck
is certainly on your side, Mr Cartwright,” the lieutenant answered. “I assume
that’s your youngest son, right there?”
“Yes,
that’s Joe,” Ben replied. He looked back at him. “He’s been injured – hit by an
arrow. We’ve got it out, but we need to get him back to Tyson Wells to see a
doctor.”
“We’ll
help you get packed up,” the lieutenant said, and gestured to his men. Within a
short time, all the camp was packed up, the horses saddled, and everyone ready
to go.
They
didn’t waste time on the way back. Although most of the marauding Indians had
been shot or captured, there were still a few unaccounted for, and nobody
wanted to meet them. It would be dark before they got back to Tyson Wells, and
no one wanted to linger.
For
a time, Joe kept up, but as the punishing heat took its toll on his meagre resources,
he began to slow down. The dehydration he had suffered was gone, but the
exposure still made its mark. Added to that was his injury from the arrow, and
Joe was turning into one sick boy. Ben was keeping a sharp eye on him, and when
the youth suddenly slumped and almost fell from the saddle, he reached out to
catch him, while calling for a halt.
Rousing
Joe with some water, Ben realised that his son was running a good going
temperature. It wasn’t really a surprise. His body had been abused for several
days, and the shock from the wound earlier that day didn’t help. It was clear
that there was no way Joe could ride on alone. He would have to double up with
someone. Unfortunately, that would slow them down.
“What
do you want to do, Mr Cartwright?” asked the lieutenant. “We could find
somewhere to stop for the night, but to be truthful, I think we’ve about used
up all our luck. I think we ought to push on back to the fort.”
“I
think you’re right,” Ben said, reluctantly. “Joe needs rest, but he needs a
doctor more, and our luck had run out, until you found us. My sons and I will
trade off riding with him, and we’ll try not to slow you down too much.”
“Joe?”
Ben said, going back to where his son lay, his head
cradled in Adam’s lap, as the older son sat between Joe and the sun. “You’re
going to ride with me for a while, all right? We can’t stop here much longer.”
“All
right,” Joe slurred. “Can I get some water?” His shoulder throbbed
relentlessly, and Joe wanted nothing more than to just lie there until he felt
better. He struggled to a sitting position with Adam’s help and drank the water
offered to him.
With
a nod, Ben and Adam pulled Joe to his feet, and between them helped him onto
Buck. Ben mounted behind him, and Hoss took Cochise in tow. Adam mounted, and
they all set off again. The soldiers were careful to keep the Cartwrights on
the inside of the file.
The
sun was almost down when a short halt was called to transfer Joe to Adam’s
horse. Joe was riding in a daze, unable to keep his eyes open, or hold his head
up. He gulped the water offered to him, but once more, they didn’t linger. Now
that the shadows were getting longer, it was difficult to see clearly, and this
was a time that Indians favoured for attacking. The tension in the air was almost
palatable, and the relief when they were on the move again just as tangible.
It
had been dark for almost 2 hours when the lights of Tyson Wells were spotted.
By then, Joe was riding with Hoss, and groaning regularly. His temperature was
soaring. Ben hoped that it was just a result of the rough going, and not of
some unsuspected poison on the arrowhead. He kept his worries to himself, but
he was as relieved as everyone else to see the lights that meant safety.
A
series of shouts ensured the gates were opened for them, and the townspeople
and the soldiers that had been left behind all hurried to greet the wanderers.
The Lieutenant shouted for the company doctor, and indicated Joe. Two soldiers
ran over to take the wounded man from his seat in front of his brother, and
gently bore him away. Joe didn’t even notice.
As
Ben started after him, the lieutenant stopped him. “Mr Cartwright, go and get
some food, a bath and clean clothes,” he said. “That’s an order. Your son will
be fine while you do that, and if there’s a problem, the doctor will come and
get you. But you need some rest before you become ill, too.”
“But,
Joe…” Ben started.
“Come
on, Pa, the lieutenant is right,” Adam said. “You need to get changed if
nothing else. The doctor won’t let you near Joe if you’re as dirty as this.”
“We’ll
tend to your mounts,” the soldier assured him. “And your son is right. Our
doctor is a stickler for cleanliness.”
“Thank
you,” Ben replied, and went off to the hotel with his sons.
***************
For
the next several days, Ben sat by Joe’s bedside in the military hospital while
his son fought the fever induced by exposure and injury. When the doctor had
cleaned out the arrow wound, he had discovered that Joe’s shoulder blade was
chipped, and he had to remove several splinters of bone. Joe was swathed in
bandages like a mummy, with his arm bound firmly across his chest. For most of
the time, Joe was asleep, his body demanding rest. Ben bathed Joe’s head, and
fed him when he was awake, talking quietly to him all the time. Joe quite often
just lay listening to him, smiling slightly as Ben told him about his rant at
his brothers when they had told him why Joe had gone to
When
Joe was awake, he was quite lucid, despite the fever. Adam and Hoss visited as
often as they could, but they were helping the military out by going out with
local patrols, to keep a watch for the last of the Indians. However, after three days, the lieutenant
received a telegraph, saying that the last of the marauders had been captured,
and the land was once more safe for travellers.
This
was good news, but it would be more than a week before Joe would get out of
hospital, the doctor told them, and longer still before he was fit to
ride home. It was decided that Adam and
Hoss would go back to the Ponderosa with the horses they had bought, and then
Adam would return to help Ben bring Joe home. If, in the meantime, the Indians
returned to the warpath, Adam would stay at the ranch.
Three
weeks later, Joe, Ben and Adam rode out of Tyson Wells to begin the journey
home.
******************
Epilogue
About
a month later, Ben sat at his desk, ostensibly doing paperwork, but in reality
watching his sons. Adam was seemingly engrossed in a book. Hoss and Joe were
playing checkers. They never seemed to tire of the game, although Ben had, on
more than one occasion, seen Joe playing chess with Adam. On the desk in front
of Ben was a silver mounted duelling pistol, a replacement gift for his
birthday. Ben loved it, but as he had pointed out to the boys, they didn’t have
to give him anything at all. Just having them all home safe and sound was gift
enough.
Typically,
it had been Joe who had pestered his brothers into buying another gift. He was
still off work, and his active mind had had plenty of time to think of what
else they could get Ben. He had seen the pistol on a trip into town with Ben,
and had persuaded Adam to go in and buy it. They had wrapped it carefully and
watched with pleasure as Ben had opened the gift.
“We
wanted to give you a real gift,” Joe said, when Ben had protested that they had
no need to buy him anything. “Something you could touch. Not us – we’re not
really gifts, are we?”
They
had all laughed, but Joe’s words stuck with Ben. He did count his sons as
gifts, and had done from the day they were born. They were each precious to him
in their own different ways. Leaning back, his pretence of bookkeeping
forgotten, Ben watched his sons. Yes, they were gifts, and he was going into
the present with them by his side.
The
End