Nothing But The Truth
The bright morning sun glistened
off the polished brass buttons of the two officers as they rode into the yard in
front of the Ponderosa ranch house. Ben Cartwright stood by the corral and
watched the two Army men more with surprise than alarm. He had been around the
Nevada territory long enough to know a troop of soldiers meant trouble. But two
officers, riding alone on horses loaded with bedrolls and thick saddlebags,
meant something else. Ben just wasn’t sure what the something else might be.
Ben threw the last horse blanket
over the rail of the corral before strolling across the yard toward the house.
By now, the soldiers had stopped their horses by the hitching post in front of
the house and had dismounted. They were tying the reins to the post as Ben
approached.
“Good morning,” said Ben in a
pleasant voice. “Can I help you?”
The man wearing a major’s
insignia turned to Ben. He was an older man, probably in his fifties, with tufts
of white hair visible beneath his hat. He sported a white mustache on his tan
face. He wore a dour expression, the look of a man who had seen too much and
been disappointed by life. The major eyed Ben, trying to
decide if he was a ranch hand or someone of more importance. With a barely
perceptible shrug, the major took a step forward, evidently deciding the
identity of the man who had spoken to him was unimportant.
“I’m looking for a Ben
Cartwright,” said the major. “Can you tell me where I might find him?”
“I’m Ben Cartwright,”
replied Ben. He heard heavy footsteps coming up behind him and glanced over his
shoulder to see a big man with a tall white hat crossing the yard from the barn.
“This is my son, Hoss,” added Ben, crooking his head toward the large figure
who was walking toward them. Ben looked at the major curiously. “How can I
help you?” he asked.
“I’m Major Thomas Walker,”
replied the major formally. He turned his head toward the younger man beside
him. “This is Captain David Andrews,” the major said, introducing the
captain. “Doctor Andrews, I suppose I should say,” added the major.
“Hey, major, you must be a
pretty important man, riding around with your own doctor,” said Hoss
Cartwright with a grin. Doctor Andrews grinned back. He
was much younger than the major, and a full head taller. Andrews had light blond
hair and his handsome face was set off with a set of deep blue eyes. His ready
smile was flashed with the ease of someone who used it often.
“Major Walker is allowing me to
ride with him to the Presido in San Francisco,” explained Andrews. “I’ve
spent my life in the East, and just got back from two years of medical study in
Europe. I’ve always wanted to see the West and I’ve decided you can’t see
much of it from a train or a ship. So I persuaded the major to let me ride with
him from Denver.” Andrews shook his head. “It’s been quite an
experience,” he said with a smile.
Major Walker cleared his throat.
“Well, yes, I’m sure Dr. Andrews has found it interesting,” said the
major. He turned to Ben. “Mr. Cartwright, I’ve come to the Ponderosa because
I’m looking for my son.”
“Your son?” said Ben with a
frown. “I’m afraid I don’t….” Ben stopped in mid-sentence. His face
cleared as understanding dawned. “Walker. You must be Lieutenant Walker’s
father.”
“Correct,” said the major.
“I was told at Fort Harrison that my son was out on a training patrol. I also
was told that your son Joseph had agreed to act as a guide for that patrol. I
was hoping that you might have an idea where I could find my son. I only have a
few days in this area and I didn’t want to wait at the fort for him.”
Ben extended his arm toward the
house. “Major, why don’t you and Doctor Andrews come into the house,” said
Ben. “Joseph isn’t back yet. But maybe we can figure out where he and your
son might be.”
The major nodded briefly and
turned to walk to the house. Ben, Hoss and Doctor Andrews followed Walker. Ben
escorted the major into the house and gestured toward the sofa in the middle of
the room. Both the major and the doctor removed their hats as they crossed the
room to sit on the sofa.
“Hoss, why don’t you get some
coffee?” suggested Ben as he watched the soldiers settle comfortably on the
sofa.
“No thank you, Mr.
Cartwright,” said Major Walker. “We won’t be staying that long.”
Hoss arched his eyes at Ben who
merely shrugged. Ben walked over and sat in his favorite red leather chair. Hoss
crossed to sit in the blue chair near the bottom of the stairs.
“I’m curious, Mr.
Cartwright,” Dr. Andrews said. “How did your son end up being an army guide?
I would think that a ranch as big as this one would keep him more than busy.”
“It really was a favor to
Colonel Dickinson,” explained Ben. He looked at the major. “Your son is new
to this area, and he’s not familiar with the territory.” Major Walker nodded
in agreement. “The men in the patrol were also new to the area,” continued
Ben. “The Colonel had arranged for a sergeant who knew the area to act as
guide. But the sergeant broke his leg. The Colonel didn’t have anyone else he
could send with the patrol. We were at the fort, selling some remount horses.
Colonel Dickinson explained his problem and my son volunteer to act as guide.”
“That was very generous of
him,” commented Dr. Andrews.
“It was a way for him to get
out of doing work around here for a week,” said Hoss with a snort. “He’d
rather be riding around with those soldiers than checking fence or chasing
strays.”
Major Walker shook his head. “I
don’t like the idea of civilians acting as scouts,” said the major. “My
experience has been that they unreliable. They don’t have the discipline or
the skill that an army regular has.”
Ben glanced at Hoss. Hoss shook
his head slightly at the major’s reproachful remarks.
“My son Joseph has spent his
whole life around here,” said Ben. “He knows this country like the back of
his hand. The Colonel was anxious for your son and his men to get to know the
area as soon as possible. It seemed like an ideal solution to have Joe act a
guide.”
“Nevertheless, I still don’t
believe it is a good idea to have a civilian leading an army patrol,” insisted
the major. “There’s no telling what trouble they might run into.”
“Aw, major, they were just
going to ride around for a week or so, getting to know the country,” said Hoss.
“The Piautes are peaceful, and we ain’t had no trouble with outlaws or
anything.”
“You never know what trouble
might occur when there’s Indians around,” said the major with a grim
expression. “I’ve spent most of my life fighting those red devils. I’ve
seen what they can do, the death and destruction they can cause.” The major
shook his head. “There’s no such thing as a peaceful Indian.”
Ben and Hoss stared at the major.
“You mean, the only good Indian is a dead Indian,” said Ben coldly.
“I didn’t say that,”
protested Major Walker. “But I know enough about Indians to know that you
can’t trust them. When they’re acting peaceful is when they are usually
plotting something.”
“Um, Mr. Cartwright, do you
have any idea where your son and Lieutenant Walker might be?” interjected Dr.
Andrews hastily. He could see the growing distaste on Ben’s face. “The major
and I might be able to meet up with them.” Andrews smiled. “It would give me
a chance to see more of the country around here.”
Ben took a deep breath before
answering. “They should be pretty close to here,” said Ben, trying to keep
his voice neutral. “I saw the route the patrol was planning to take when we
were at the fort. If they kept on schedule, they should be less than a day’s
ride from here.”
Major Walker reached into his
tunic and pulled out a piece of paper. He opened the paper on the table in front
of him, revealing a map. “Maybe you’d be good enough to show me on this map
where my son and his patrol might be,” said the major, smoothing out the
paper. “I’m sure Dr. Andrews and I can find our
way from here.”
Ben bent forward to look at the
map, then frowned. “Major, I’m afraid this map isn’t going to be of much
help,” said Ben. “It covers too large an area, almost everything between
here and San Francisco. The patrol should be somewhere near the Oak Ridge
foothills. That’s not even shown on the map.”
Major Walker leaned over the map.
“Could you point out the general area?” asked the major. “Maybe if Dr.
Andrews and I rode to that area, we could find my son.”
Ben pointed to a section on the
map. “They should be in this area,” said Ben. “But on this map, we’re
talking probably a 100 square miles or so. You’ll never find them.”
Walker sat back on the sofa.
“Well, I suppose we could simply wait somewhere around here,” said the major
in a disappointed voice. “If the patrol will be arriving in a day or so, that
would give me some time at least with my son.”
“Hey, Pa, how about if you and
me take the major and the doc out to Oak Ridge?” asked Hoss. While he didn’t
particularly like the major, Hoss’ naturally good heart made him feel sorry
for the man who was so obviously disappointed. “We ain’t got anything
pressing around here,” added Hoss. “Besides, we could make sure Joe gets
home and starts doing his share of the chores. Otherwise, he’s liable to think
of a bunch of excuses to stay at the fort for a while.”
“I don’t know if the major
wants a couple of ‘civilians’ showing him the way,” replied Ben pointedly.
The major had the grace to redden
a bit. “Mr. Cartwright, I would be grateful if you could show us the way,”
said Walker. “I have such a short time in the area, and I would like to visit
with my son as much as possible.”
“It’s a nice day for a ride,
Pa,” added Hoss. “We could leave a note for Adam in case he gets back from
the timber camp before we get home.”
“I really would like to see a
bit more of the country around here,” added Andrews.
Ben laughed and put up his hands.
“All right, all right,” agreed Ben. “I can tell when I’m out-numbered.
Hoss, go saddle the horses.”
Hoss grinned and winked at Doctor
Andrews as he walked across the room toward the front door.
“Thank you, Mr. Cartwright,”
said Major Walker stiffly. He hesitated, then added. “I’m sorry if my
earlier remarks seemed, well, a bit blood thirsty.”
“Major, we’ve spent a good
many years trying to make peace with Piautes,” said Ben. “In almost all
cases, the peace was broken because of something the white man did, and not by
the Piautes. The Piautes want peace but they’ll defend what is theirs, just
like any one else.”
“I understand your position,”
replied the major in a non-committal tone. He turned to Dr. Andrews. “Doctor,
let’s get out to our horses,” said the major. “We don’t want to keep Mr.
Cartwright away from his ranch any longer than necessary.”
*************
Several hours later, the four
riders were nearing the Oak Ridge foothills. en rode in the front of the
group, followed by Major Walker. Hoss and Dr. Andrews brought up the rear,
riding side by side. During the ride, Andrews had
chatted with Hoss about his two years in Europe. He told the big man about
studying the latest techniques in medicine, and the sights he had seen. As they
rode, Hoss found himself liking the doctor more and more.
“Hey, doc, let me ask you a
question,” said Hoss as the two men rode over the grassy hill. “If the Army
sent you all the way to Europe to study, how come you’re out here and not in
some fancy hospital back East?”
Andrews grinned. “I was posted
to a hospital in Washington for a while,” admitted the doctor. “But I got
tired of taking care of generals whose biggest problem was developing blisters
from sitting behind a desk all day. I kept reading about the West and I knew
there was a real need for doctors out here. I finally
convinced my commanding officer to get me a new assignment. I was hoping for
something a little more, well, shall we say, rugged than San Francisco,
though.”
“Don’t think San Francisco is
like Washington,” warned Hoss. “It can be a pretty rough town.”
“I know,” replied the doctor.
“But it still isn’t what I had in mind. I wanted an assignment where I could
experience the real West. Or at least, what I thought was the real West based on
what I read.”
“You mean, this isn’t what
you expected?” asked Hoss.
Andrews shook his head. “No,
not at all,” he replied. “The mountains are much bigger and more spectacular
than anything they described in the periodicals. The sunsets are glorious, and
at night, you can see a million stars. There’s no words to describe how
wonderful the scenery is out here.”
“Well, it ain’t all
wonderful,” said Hoss. “It can also be hot, and dusty and lonely. “
“I know,” said Andrews.
“The major and I sometimes rode for days without seeing another living soul.
It was a bit frightening. Everything out here is so big, so larger than life.”
“How did you hook up with the
major?” asked Hoss curiously. “He don’t seem like the type of fellow who
makes friends easily.”
“Major Walker isn’t all that
bad once you get to know him,” replied the doctor. “I met him in Denver at
the Army post. When I heard he was going to ride across country to San
Francisco, I begged him to take me along. I made a real pest of myself. I think
he finally agreed to take me just to shut me up.”
“He don’t seem like someone
who can be persuaded real easy,” remarked Hoss.
“Major Walker is all Army,”
replied Doctor Andrews cautiously. “He joined the Army at 15 and has spent his
entire life working his way up the ranks. He’s done more than his share of
fighting over the years.”
“How come he’s going to the
Presidio? That’s a pretty tame assignment for
an old Indian fighter,” asked Hoss. “You’d think he’d be at some
fort in Arizona or something.”
“I don’t what exactly led to
his posting in San Francisco,” admitted Andrews. “I heard some talk. The
general feeling seems to be that the Army has changed its attitude toward the
Indians, and is more willing to make peace than in the past. Major Walker
doesn’t think this new policy makes sense. He thinks the Army’s mission
should be to eliminate all the Indians they can, and he’s let a lot of people
know how he feels. So the Army decided to send him some place where he can’t
do much harm.”
Up ahead of the two men, Ben
reined his horse to a stop. “Hoss, come here!” shouted Ben, turning back
toward his son. Hoss urged his horse forward.
“There’s the creek,” Ben
said as Hoss rode up. “You and Joe have been up here a lot. Where is he most
likely to make camp?”
Hoss pointed to a clump of trees
about 50 yards away. “Over there,” said Hoss.
“Joe and I usually make camp over by those trees.”
Ben nodded, and gave his horse a
gentle kick. He rode toward the trees with Hoss, Doctor Andrews and Major Walker
following. Ben reined his horse to a stop
again as he neared the trees. He could see the remnants of a recent campfire
near the edge of the trees, a few feet from the creek. Ben dismounted and bent
down to look at the ashes.
“This fire isn’t more than a
day old, maybe less,” declared Ben. He looked around with a frown. “If the
patrol made camp here, we should have met them on the trail. They should have
been heading in our direction.”
Hoss dismounted and studied the
ground around the campfire. He walked a few feet from the fire, eyes glued to
the grass. He stopped and turned back toward Ben.
“Hey, Pa,” said Hoss.
“There’s tracks over here. Looks like seven or eight horses. Except those
tracks are heading toward the foothills.”
“Why would the patrol be
heading toward the foothills?” asked Major Walker. “What’s in that
direction?”
“Joe knows better than to lead
the patrol to those hills,” replied Ben, his frown deepening. “The Paiutes
have their sacred ground in those hills.”
“Sacred ground?” asked
Andrews. “What’s that?”
“It’s the area where the
Piautes take their dead chiefs,” replied Ben. “They consider the ground to
be holy. They conduct their ceremonies there, and ask the spirits of their dead
chiefs to guide them. “
“Sounds sort of like a
church,” remarked the doctor.
Ben nodded. “It is,” he said.
“Except there’s no buildings or temples. Just a small camp near the edge of
the ground where the tribe’s holy men live. Some braves live in the camp also,
to help protect the area from intruders. No one is allowed into that area
uninvited, and certainly no white man. The braves who protect the land are the
elite of the tribe. It’s considered a great honor to be chosen to defend the
sacred ground.”
“A bunch of Indian foolishness
and superstition,” said Walker with a snort.
“Pa, Joe wouldn’t lead the
patrol up there,” said Hoss. “He knows it would cause trouble with the
Piautes if any of them soldiers went into their sacred ground.”
Ben looked toward the hills
thoughtfully. “Maybe Joe just wanted to show them where it was, so they
wouldn’t ride on to it accidentally,” said Ben. “After all, the Lieutenant
and his men don’t know this area. They could easily ride across it and not
realize what they had done.”
“Do
you think we ought to go up there and meet them?” asked Hoss. “I mean, if
Joe is just showing them where it is, they ought to be coming back this way
soon.”
Ben didn’t answer. He stood looking toward the ridge. For some reason, Ben felt an urgent need to go looking for Joe. He couldn’t explain why, but suddenly, he felt it was important that they find the Army patrol as soon as possible. “Let’s go find them,” Ben said to Hoss. He turned and mounted his horse. Hoss looked at his father curiously. The expression on Ben’s face had been an odd one, almost a fearful one. Hoss couldn’t figure out what had caused it. With a shrug, Hoss mounted his horse and followed Ben toward the ridge. Major Walker and Doctor Andrews rode after the Cartwrights. Ben’s horse broke into a canter as the buckskin recognized Ben’s sense of urgency. The other riders kicked their horses into a canter also, trying to keep up. Ben led them to the top of the ridge, then stopped his horse.
“The Piaute sacred land is just
on the other side of those trees,” said Ben pointing to a thick grove of oaks.
He looked around. “I don’t see any sign of Joe or that the patrol.”
“Do you think we should go any
closer?” asked Hoss.
Ben sat thinking for a minute. He
knew that he was courting trouble by being this close to the area where the
Paiutes had forbidden any white man to go. But he couldn’t shake the feeling
that something was wrong. Ben pursed his lips. “Let’s
ride through the trees,” he said. “There’s a small clearing before you get
to entrance the sacred ground. Maybe we can find some sign of the patrol
there.” Without waiting for a reply, Ben kicked his horse forward.
The grove of oaks was not very
deep. It took the riders only a few minutes to pass through the trees. As the
four men emerged from the trees, they stopped their horses. Each of the men
looked at the scene in front of them in shocked silence. On the other side of the trees
was a hillside covered with thick grass. The hill paralleled the grove of oak
trees, so the riders were about halfway up the hill as they left the grove. At
the top of the hill, two tall rocks marked the entrance to the Piautes sacred
ground. The rocks were decorated with symbols and drawings, and two lances were
stuck into the ground on either side of the entrance.
“No! Oh, God, no!” said Major
Walker in a choked voice. He kicked his horse forward, racing the animal across
the grass.
Ben and Hoss looked at each
other, the faces reflecting the fear and horror both felt. They too kicked their
horses forward and raced across the grass. Dr. Andrews followed the others at a
slower pace. Ben and Hoss halted their horses
near the bodies. Seven men wearing blue uniforms were sprawled in the grass. All
had at least one arrow protruding from their chest; most had two or three. There
was no question that all the men were dead. Major Walker had already
dismounted and was frantically searching through the bodies. He froze as he came
across one sporting lieutenant’s bars on a blue shirt. With a cry of anguish,
Walker dropped to his knees and pulled the shoulders of the motionless form into
his arms. It was the body of a young man, with thick brown hair. The major began
rocking the body slowly, stroking the man’s hair with his hand.
“Pa, I don’t see Joe!” Hoss
said in a frantic voice as he looked around at the bodies on the ground. “I
don’t see his horse either!”
Ben also was searching
desperately for some sign of his son. Initially, he had felt a sense of relief
when he realized all the bodies on the ground were wearing blue uniforms. But
the relief had quickly disappeared when he realized that whole patrol had been
slain. Ben’s heart was in his throat. He knew it was unlikely that Joe had not
been with the patrol.
“Joe!” shouted Ben, turning
his head quickly from side to side. He prayed that Joe had somehow managed to
escape the fate of the soldiers. He hoped his son might be alive, perhaps
wounded and hiding. “Joe!” Ben shouted again.
“Pa, look!” said Hoss,
grabbing his father’s arm. Hoss pointed down the hill. A familiar pinto horse
was grazing near a tree far down the hill. Ben quickly turned his horse and
rode down the hill toward the pinto. He could hear Hoss’ horse following him.
Ben stopped his horse near the pinto, and dismounted. “Joe!” shouted Ben,
searching the grass desperately with his eyes. He listened for a reply, as he
looked for some sign of his son. Suddenly, Ben stood rigid, staring at something
in the grass. Giving out an anguished cry that echoed Major Walker’s, Ben ran
a few feet down the hill.
Joe Cartwright’s face was
covered with blood. A deep groove was cut into the left temple of Joe’s head,
and blood obviously had poured from the wound. Thick rivulets of blood, some
dried and some still wet, had streamed down Joe’s face. Any part of the face
not stained with blood was a pale, almost translucent white. Imitating the
major, Ben pulled his son’s shoulders off the ground and cradled Joe’s head
in his arms. Hoss stood over his father and brother with tears in his eyes.
Up the hill, Doctor Andrews
watched the scene unfolding before him with a sickening feeling. The feeling was
not caused by the dead bodies. Death was a familiar foe to the doctor, although
he was more familiar with it in the rather sterile confines of a hospital than
in the midst of an idyllic hillside. While he deeply regretted the loss of life
he saw before him, Doctor Andrews had seen death before. What he hadn’t seen before was
the deep anguish of two fathers as they cradled their sons. In the hospital, Dr.
Andrew had told fathers of the death of their loved ones. But he had never seen
those fathers holding the bodies of their sons, cradling the heads of their
children in their arms, while they tried in vain to bring life back into them.
David Andrews lowered his head, unable to watch any further the raw emotion that
was being displayed around him.
“Doctor! Come quick!”
Dr. Andrews looked up as he heard
the shout.
“Doctor! He’s alive! My
son’s still alive!”
Dr. Andrews realized the shout
was coming from down the hill. He looked down the grassy plain and saw Hoss was
waving to him with a frantic motion. Dr. Andrews turned his horse and rode down
the hill. The doctor stopped his horse a
few feet from the Cartwrights and dismounted. He reached into his saddle bag and
pulled out a small case. Then he walked rapidly to the men in the grass.
Ben was still cradling Joe in his
arms. Joe’s eyes were closed and his body was limp. Ben was stroking Joe’s
head and murmuring Joe’s name. He
looked up at Andrews as the doctor approached. Ben’s face was streaked with
tears. “He’s alive,” said Ben in almost a whisper. “Please. Help him.”
Dr. Andrews nodded. “Lay him
down so I can examine him,” said the doctor in a brisk, professional tone. Ben
gently laid Joe back on the grass, easing his son’s head to the ground. Dr.
Andrews could see the streamers of blood which had cascaded down Joe’s face
and neck. But he also could see the faint rising and falling of the young
man’s chest. He quickly reached into his bag and pulled out a stethoscope.
Sticking the tubes into his ears, the doctor placed the other end of the
instrument on Joe’s chest.
Dr. Andrews listened to Joe’s
heart for what seemed a long time to Ben and Hoss. The doctor moved the
stethoscope around on Joe’s chest, listening to the young man’s lungs. With
a quick movement, he pulled the instrument from his ears and set it aside. Dr.
Andrews gently laid his hand on Joe’s forehead. He move his thumb so he could
lift Joe’s right eyelid, and he stared into the unseeing eye. The doctor let
the right eyelid fall close and moved to open the left. The dried and clotted
blood made it difficult for the doctor to open Joe’s left eye, but he managed
to get the eyelid up a bit. Again, the doctor studied the eye, then let the lid
close.
Ben and Hoss watched the doctor
anxiously. When the doctor turned to reach into his bag again, Ben could stand
it no longer. “Doctor?” he asked in a fearful voice.
Andrews turned to the
Cartwrights, a white cloth and bottle of alcohol in his hands. “His heartbeat
is a bit rapid but it’s steady, and his lungs seem clear,” said the doctor.
“Other than that bullet wound to the head, I can’t seem to find any
injuries.”
“Bullet wound?” said Hoss
with a frown. “Are you sure that’s a bullet wound?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” replied
the doctor in a puzzled voice. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, it’s just that those
other soldiers were killed with arrows,” answered Hoss.
“Couldn’t it been an arrow that creased his head.”
The doctor shook his head as he
turned back to his patient. “No,” said the doctor as he began cleaning the
deep gash on Joe’s head. “This wound is deep, too deep for anything but a
bullet to have caused it.”
“Doctor, is he going to be all
right?” asked Ben anxiously.
Andrews didn’t answer for a
minute, but continued to dab the wound with the cloth. He then laid the cloth
across the wound, and sat back on his heels. He turned to Ben. “Mr.
Cartwright, I can’t predict anything,” said Andrews slowly. “Head wounds
are…difficult. He may recover fully or there may be some permanent damage. I
just can’t tell at this point.”
“But he’ll live,” insisted
Ben.
“Well, I would guess that
he’s been laying here for several hours,” said Andrews cautiously. “He
lost a lot of blood, but his condition seems to be stable. I don’t think
he’s in any immediate danger.”
Ben and Hoss both let out a deep
sigh of relief.
“I don’t want to minimize the
seriousness of his condition,” continued the doctor has he turned back to work
on Joe. “He has a concussion, and possibly a fractured skull. He’s lost a
lot of blood and is probably dehydrated. He seems to be holding his own for now,
but there’s no guarantee that will continue.”
Ben and Hoss looked at each
other, the fear returning to their faces. They watched as the doctor continued
to clean the wound, then reached into his bag for a small bottle. The doctor
sprinkled some of the contents on the cut, then reached into his bag for some
bandages. The Cartwrights were so focused
on Joe and the doctor that they didn’t even hear the rider approaching. Only
when Major Walker spoke did they realize the officer had ridden down to them.
“Mr. Cartwright?” said the
Major. “How is your son?”
Ben looked up at the major.
Walker’s eyes were red and glistened unnaturally, but his face was now passive
and he held himself with the rigid pose of a veteran soldier. “The doctor says
he is seriously injured but he’s holding his own,” replied Ben. Ben pursed
his lips and swallowed. “I’m sorry about your son,” he added.
The major nodded briefly. “We
should leave here as soon as possible,” said the major. “If those Indians
return, we wouldn’t have much of a chance against them. If you or your son
would help me, I would like to collect the…the bodies as quickly as
possible.”
Ben turned to Andrews. “Doctor,
can we put Joe on a horse?” he asked.
Andrews looked up thoughtfully.
“If we move him carefully, and ride very slowly, I don’t think it will harm
him,” replied the doctor. The doctor looked around. The air seemed unnaturally
still and quiet. “It probably is a good idea for us to get out of here,” he
added.
“I’ll help the major,” said
Hoss, turning toward his horse.
Half an hour later, the small
party was ready to leave the hillside. Hoss and the major had collected the
loose horses and placed the body of one of the slain soldiers over the saddle of
each horse. Each body was carefully wrapped in a blanket taken from the bedrolls
that had been still attached to the saddles.
Hoss had led Joe’s horse up the hill and then tied the pinto’s reins
together with the reins of three other horses. Major Walker tied the reins of
the other four horses together. Each man would lead four horses off the
hillside. After he had bandaged Joe’s
head, Doctor Andrews helped Ben carry his son to Ben’s horse. The two had
carefully lifted Joe onto the saddle, and Ben quickly climbed up behind his son.
He pulled Joe’s limp body against his chest, and rested Joe’s head on his
shoulder. Ben held his son tightly, and placed his hand where he could feel the
reassuring rising and falling of Joe’s chest. Doctor Andrews quickly mounted
his own horse and then grabbed the reins of Ben’s animal. The doctor slowly
led Ben’s buckskin up the hill.
Hoss and Major Walker waited near
the oak grove for the doctor and Ben. Hoss’ face was grim as he watched Ben
ride up the hill, clutching Joe in his arms. Joe’s body sagged in the saddle,
and his mouth hung open. The white bandage around Joe’s head was already
showing splotches of red. Dried blood still stained Joe’s face and neck, and
rusty brown streaks were visible on Joe’s shirt and jacket.
Ben said nothing as the doctor
led his horse past Hoss and into the grove of trees. Hoss watched the two riders
disappear into the oaks, then urged his horse forward, leading the four horses
behind him. The major followed Hoss into the woods. The solemn procession rode slowly
down the ridge, each rider concerned with the precious burdens in his care. The
riders were silent, each lost in their own thoughts. When the riders reached the creek
at the bottom of the ridge, Doctor Andrews reined his horse to a halt. He turned
back to look at Ben who was still clutching Joe tightly against him. “Mr.
Cartwright, is there any place around here where we can take your son?” he
asked. “Any place where we could at least get a wagon?”
Ben shook his head. “No,” he
answered miserably. “There’s nothing between here and the Ponderosa.”
“Pa,” said Hoss, urging his
horse forward. “We’re far enough away from them Piautes. We can stop long
enough to make a travois.”
“A travois?” said Dr.
Andrews. “What’s that?”
“It’s a kind of sled,” said
Hoss, struggling to explain. “You make it out of some long poles, ropes, and
blankets, and then tie it to a horse. The
Indians use it to carry their furs and anyone who can’t ride.”
“That would certainly be better
for Joe than sitting a horse,” said the doctor with a nod. “How long would
it take you to make it?”
Hoss looked around. He saw some
likely branches in the clump of trees ahead of them. “Not long,” answered
Hoss. He rode back to the major and handed Walker to reins to the horses he was
leading. Then Hoss rode quickly toward the trees.
“This is a good place to stop
for a while,” said the doctor. He dismounted and walked over to Ben. “Hand
him down to me,” instructed the doctor. “I want to change the bandage and
try to get some water into him.”
Ben hesitated a moment, hating to
let Joe out of his arms. Then, he slowly eased Joe out of the saddle and into
the doctor’s arms. Doctor Andrews carried Joe a few
feet to the creek and gently laid him on the soft grass. Ben hurried to his
son’s side. He gently stroked Joe’s head then looked up at the doctor.
“He’s still unconscious,” said Ben with concern. “How long do you
suppose it will be before he wakes up?”
“No
way to tell,” answered Andrews. “It’s a bad head wound, though. In cases
like this, it’s not unusual for the patient to be unconscious for quite
awhile.” He laid a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “I know it’s frustrating, but
there’s really nothing we can do but wait.”
Ben turned back to his son, and
stroked Joe’s head again. “Hang on, son,” he said softly. “We’ll have
you home soon.”
***********
Hoss built the travois in record
time, and Ben helped him tie the long ends of the poles to the saddle of Joe’s
horse. As they worked, Hoss was silent, a puzzled expression on his face. Ben
was too distracted with thoughts of Joe to pay much attention.
“Pa,” said Hoss finally.
“I’ve been thinking. There’s something really strange about what happened
up there.”
“Strange?” said Ben. “What
do you mean?”
“Well, them soldiers were
killed by the Piautes,” said Hoss. “But when was the last time a Piaute
raiding party left without taking the horses with them? And they didn’t take
any scalps, either.”
Ben stopped and thought a moment.
“You’re right, Hoss,” said Ben. “That is strange.”
“And another thing,” added
Hoss. “Those soldiers were all killed by arrows. Joe was shot. And he was at
the bottom the hill. Those soldiers were killed near the top.”
“What do you think happened?”
said Ben.
“That’s just it, Pa,” said
Hoss, shaking his head. “I can’t figure out exactly what did happen. I mean,
it must have been Piautes. They wouldn’t have let anyone else that close to
their sacred ground. But if it was Piautes, why didn’t they take the horses
and scalps? And why was Joe shot and the others killed with arrows? It just
don’t make any sense.”
Ben shook his head. “I don’t
understand it either,” said Ben. He took a deep breath. “We’ll just have
to wait for Joe to tell us what happened.”
“Mr. Cartwright?” a voice
behind Ben said. Ben turned to see Major Walker standing a few feet away.
“Yes, major?” answered Ben.
“Mr. Cartwright, I’m going to
go on to the fort,” said the major. “I want to get to Fort Harrison as soon
as possible.”
“Yes, of course,” said Ben in
a sympathetic. “I understand. You must have some people to notify.”
Major Walker stood a bit
straighter. “No, there’s no one to notify,” he said. “My wife passed
away a few years ago. We didn’t have any other children.” The major’s
voice seem strained. He took a deep breath. “I want to get to the Fort so we
can organize an action against the Piautes as soon as possible.”
“An action?” said Hoss.
“You mean you want to attack the Piautes?”
“Yes,” said Major Walker.
“If you want to put it in those terms.
“But Major,” said Hoss.
“You don’t know which Piautes did this. You don’t even know exactly what
happened.”
“It doesn’t matter,”
answered the major. “The Piautes must be punished. They killed seven members
of the United States Army. That demands punishment.”
“Major, you can’t be
serious,” said Ben in alarm.
“I’m perfectly serious,”
replied the major. “I’m sure Colonel Dickinson will agree with me.” He
looked at Ben. “I’m surprised at you, Mr. Cartwright. I would have thought
that you’d want those Indians punished for what they also did to your son.”
“Major, I don’t know what
happened to my son, or who shot him,” replied Ben. “But I do know if you
attack the Piautes, you’ll start a war.”
“The Piautes have already
started the war,” replied the major. He turned and walked away.
“Pa, we got to stop him,”
said Hoss in an urgent voice. “If he attacks the Piautes, they’ll go after
every rancher or settler within a hundred miles.”
“I know, Hoss, I know,” Ben
said. He looked back toward the creek where the doctor was still tending to Joe.
“I don’t want to leave Joe, though. Not until I know for sure he’s going
to be all right.”
“Pa, I know you want to stay
with Joe,” said Hoss slowly. “I know how you feel. I feel the same way. But
there’s nothing you can do for him right now. And you and I both know you’re
the only one with a chance of heading off Major Walker. Colonel Dickinson will
listen to you.”
Ben closed his eyes and took a
deep breath. He knew Hoss was right. He knew he should go to the fort with the
major. But his heart ached at the thought of leaving his youngest son.
“Pa,” said Hoss in a gentle
voice. “I’ll take care of Joe. You know I will. I won’t let anything
happen to him.”
Ben opened his eyes and looked at
Hoss. He nodded and walked away without another word. Major Walker was mounting his
horse as Ben approached. “Major!” shouted Ben. “Wait. I’m going to the
fort with you.”
Walker looked surprised.
“Why?” he asked bluntly.
“Because I want to talk with
Colonel Dickinson, also,” replied Ben just a bluntly.
“Don’t you think I’ll tell
the Colonel the truth?” asked the major in an icy tone.
“I think you’ll tell him the
truth,” answered Ben, “but perhaps not the whole truth.”
Ben’s face softened a bit. “Major, I know how it must be hurting you
to lose a son,” added Ben. He glanced back toward the creek. “Believe me, I
know. But starting a war with the Piautes isn’t going to bring your son
back.”
Major Walker stared at Ben with a
cold expression. “I can’t stop you from riding to the fort,” he said. With
that, he reached down and grabbed the reins of the seven horses that he had tied
together. The major kicked his horse hard, and the animals moved forward
quickly. Ben raced back to his horse and mounted. He stopped a moment to take
one last look toward the creek. Then he turned his horse and rode after Major
Walker.
**************
“An investigation!” shouted
Major Walker as he pounded his fist on the desk in front of him. “How can you
say you won’t do anything until you’ve conducted an investigation!”
Colonel Dickinson looked up at
the major from behind the desk. “Major, I know how you must feel, losing your
son,” said the Colonel in a sympathetic voice.
“But we can’t just go and attack the Piautes without knowing for sure
what happened.”
“We know what happened!”
shouted Walker. “The Piautes attacked and killed seven soldiers, including my
son. What more do you need?”
“I need more information than I
have right now,” insisted the Colonel. He nodded toward Ben who was sitting in
a chair at the edge of the desk. “Based on what Ben has said, there are a lot
of unanswered questions,” continued the Colonel. “I want those answers
before I do anything.”
Major Walker pounded his fist on
the desk in frustration once more. “Colonel, while you sit here conducting
your investigation, those Piautes could be running wild, attacking every ranch
within fifty miles,” said Walker. “There is only one course of action that
makes sense. And that course is to attack and kill the Piautes before they can
do any more harm.”
“Major, my patrols have been
out all day,” replied the Colonel, his voice rising in anger. “Not one of
them has reported any sign of trouble from the Piautes.”
“Bah!” said Walker, turning
away from the desk in anger. He took two steps, then wheeled back to the desk.
“You’re as bad as those addle-headed politicians in Washington,” said the
major, pointing his finger. “You sit here and do nothing while those who are
responsible for my son’s death get away with it.”
“No one is going to get away
with anything,” said the Colonel heatedly. He took a deep breath to calm
himself. “Major, you are overwrought,” said the Colonel. “It’s
understandable. But you must understand we can’t
mount an action against the Piautes until we have all the facts.”
“And by the time you have all
the facts, my son’s death will have been forgotten,” said Walker bitterly.
“I assure you, Lieutenant
Walker’s death will be fully investigated, as will be the death of his men,”
replied the Colonel.
Ben sat silently, watching the
exchange. He had been heartened by Colonel Dickinson’s willingness to listen
to the facts as he had presented them. And by the fact that the Colonel wanted
to investigate the killing of the soldiers further before taking action. But
now, he felt he had done everything he could at the fort. All Ben wanted to do
was get home to his son.
“Colonel, I have to get back to
the Ponderosa,” said Ben rising from the chair.
Colonel Dickinson turned to Ben
and nodded. “Of course,” he said. “I know you want to be with your son.”
“I’ll send word as soon as
Joseph is able to talk,” said Ben, silently praying that his son would be able
to talk.
“Tell Doctor Andrews that he is
to stay at the Ponderosa as long as he is needed,” said the Colonel. “I’ll
wire the Presidio and let them know he is being delayed.”
“Thank you,” said Ben
gratefully. He took a step toward the door, then hesitated. Major Walker was
glaring at Ben from across the room. “Major, I am sorry about your son,”
said Ben.
“Sorry!” Walker spat out the
word. “I don’t want your sympathy,” said the Major angrily. He looked from
Ben to the Colonel. “I want to see those who are responsible for my son’s
death to pay for what they’ve done.”
“Major,” said Ben in a cold
voice, “if you attack the Piautes, every rancher in this territory will pay
for it with blood. A lot of innocent people on both sides will be killed. I
don’t think that’s a very good epitaph for your son.” With a nod to the
Colonel, Ben walked out of the office.
Ben hurried to his horse, which
was tied to a hitching post in front of Colonel Dickinson’s office. The sun
was low in the sky, and night was fast approaching. But Ben gave no thought to
staying at the fort until morning. His only thought was that if he rode hard, he
could be back at the Ponderosa before midnight.
And Ben did ride hard, pushing
his horse almost to the animal’s limits. He was vaguely aware that the
buckskin was tired and sweaty, but Ben gave little thought to his horse. His
thoughts were fixed firmly on a room upstairs at the ranch house, a room in
which he knew his injured son was lying.
“Mr. Cartwright, you’re
back,” said Charlie, one of the hands with relief.
Ben nodded, not bothering to
answer. He merely handed the reins of his horse to Charlie. “Take care of Buck
for me,” said Ben with a distracted air. “He’s worked hard today.”
Ben started toward the house, but
stopped when he heard Charlie call out his name. He turned back toward the hand.
“What?” asked Ben almost
angrily. He hated the thought of anything delaying him from getting to Joe.
“I just wanted to know what
happened at the fort,” said Charlie apologetically. “Hoss told us what
happened. He said that major wanted to go after the Piautes.” Charlie’s face
showed the worry he was feeling. “Is the Army going to attack the Piautes?”
Ben suddenly remembered
Charlie’s brother a small ranch in a valley not far away. He realized why
Charlie was worried.
“No,” said Ben, regretting
his earlier anger. “The Army is not going to do anything, at least right now.
They want to investigate.” Ben glanced to the house. “They want to talk with
Joe first.”
Charlie nodded, the relief
evident on his face. “Let us know how Joe is doing,” said Charlie as he
began to lead Ben’s horse toward the barn. “We haven’t heard anything in a
couple of hours.”
The fear and worry began building
in Ben once more. He nodded curtly, then turned to walk hurriedly toward the
house. Ben pushed open the front door of
the ranch house. He stopped just inside the door. The house was strangely quiet.
The stillness only added to Ben’s fears. He quickly undid his gunbelt and
threw the holster on the chest near the door. He threw his hat on top of the
gunbelt and walked rapidly across the room toward the stairs. His foot was on
the first step when he looked up to see Adam coming down the stairs.
“Adam!” Ben said. He
swallowed hard. “How’s Joe?”
Adam shook his head as he walked
down the stairs. “Still unconscious,” he said.
“Is Doctor Andrews with him?”
asked Ben.
Adam smiled ruefully. “It’s pretty crowded up there,” he answered.
“Dr. Andrews and Dr. Martin are
arguing over what to do, and Hoss keeps talking to Joe. It’s a
wonder that the noise alone doesn’t wake Joe up.”
Ben gave Adam a small smile, and
started up the stairs. Adam grabbed his arm as Ben started to pass him. “Pa,
what happened at the fort?” he asked.
“Colonel Dickinson is going to
wait until he can talk to Joe before he does anything,” answered Ben. Ben
glanced to the top of the stairs. “I told him I’d let him know when Joe was
awake,” added Ben.
Adam nodded. “Good,” he said.
“Based on what Hoss said, there’s a lot of questions about what happened at
Oak Ridge.”
“I just hope Joe will be able
to tell us what happened,” said Ben, his voice betraying his fear.
“He will,” Adam said
reassuringly. He gave Ben a wry smile. “Joe’s got a hard head, like all the
Cartwrights. He’ll be all right.”
Ben nodded and walked up the
stairs to Joe’s room.
*************
The first thing Joe felt was a
stabbing pain in his head, the worst headache he could ever remember. He moaned
slightly at the pain, and tried to move his head but that only made the pain
worse. Joe felt someone squeezing his hand, and he heard a muffled voice calling
his name. Joe wanted to open his eyes but it seemed like it took a lot of effort
to do so. He finally managed to open his eyelids a bit but even such a small bit
of light caused another stab of pain. Joe quickly shut his eyes.
“Joe! Come on, son. Time to
wake up. Open your eyes,” the voice said. Joe could hear it clearly now. He
recognized his father’s voice. He wondered if Pa knew how much effort it took
for him to open his eyes, and how much it hurt when he did.
“Please, Joe, please, open your
eyes,” said Ben.
His father’s voice had such a
pleading tone that Joe wanted to obey him. It was just so hard and so painful
for him to do so. Joe felt his hand being squeezed
again, and felt someone rubbing his arm gently. He knew it must be his father.
Why didn’t Pa just let him sleep, wondered Joe.
“Joe, son, you have to wake
up,” said Ben, his voice even more urgent than before. “Please, Joe, open
your eyes.”
Joe decided his father wasn’t
going to let him sleep. He might as well open his eyes and get it over with.
Maybe then he could slip back into that darkness where he didn’t feel any
pain. Joe took a deep breath and slowly forced his eyes open. He grunted at the stab of pain
the light caused, and almost shut his eyes again. But he forced himself to keep
his eyes open. For some reason, his Pa thought it was important he do, and Joe
wanted to please his father.
The face was only a few inches
from Joe but the image was blurry. Joe blinked slowly and the face started to
come into focus. It didn’t take much for Joe to recognize the face. He would
have known that white hair anywhere.
“Pa?” croaked Joe. He was
surprised at how dry and raspy his throat felt. Joe tried to swallow.
“Water,” he croaked.
“Here, give him a sip of
this,” said a voice from somewhere in the room.
Joe felt a glass being put to his
lips and he raised his head a bit to drink. Another stab of blinding pain shot
through Joe’s head. He grunted once more. Joe felt a hand supporting his
head and the glass being pressed against his lips. He started to drink, slowly
at first. But as he felt the cool water in his mouth and throat, he began to
drink more eagerly. He greedily gulped the liquid, grateful for the way the
water was easing the dryness in his throat. Finally, the glass was removed,
and Joe’s head was eased back on the pillow. He looked up and saw his
father’s face in clear focus now. Ben looked worried, and lines of fatigue
were evident on his face. The stubble of a beard was visible on Ben’s chin.
Joe closed his eyes briefly,
trying to ease the pounding in his head. Then he looked up at his father.
“Hi,” he said simply. He couldn’t think of anything else to say.
Ben’s face broke into a grin.
“Hi yourself, young man,” said Ben, his voice full of relief. “How are you
feeling?”
“I’ve got a headache as big
as Mount Shasta,” replied Joe truthfully. “What happened?”
“Don’t you remember?” asked
Ben with a slight frown.
Joe shook his head slightly,
careful not to move it too much. He already knew moving his head caused the pain
to get worse.
“What’s the last thing you
remember?” asked Ben.
Joe thought for a minute. “I
remember sitting around a campfire with some soldiers,” he said with a frown.
Joe tried to remember what happened after that, but his head began to throb. He
put his hand to his forehead and was surprised to feel a bandage. He glanced
around and realized he was in his room at the Ponderosa. “What happened?”
Joe asked in confusion. “How did I get here?”
Ben glanced over his shoulder.
Joe couldn’t see who was standing behind his father. But he did hear the voice
say, “Go slow.” Joe saw his father nod.
“Joe, we don’t know exactly
what happened,” said Ben, choosing his words carefully. “We found you up on
Oak Ridge, near the Piautes’ sacred ground. We brought you home. You’ve been
unconscious for almost two days.”
Ben’s words confused Joe even
further. “Oak Ridge?” he said. “What was I doing up there? What did the
soldiers say?”
Ben hesitated. “The patrol, the
soldiers you were with, they are all dead,” said Ben slowly.
“Dead?” said Joe in alarm. He
started to sit up, but quickly laid back on the bed as another stab of pain shot
through his head. “Dead,” he said again. “All of them? Even Lieutenant
Walker?”
Ben nodded. “We found them
almost near the entrance to the Piautes’ holy ground,” said Ben. “They all
had been killed by arrows.”
Joe stared at the ceiling.
“Dead,” he said softly. He turned his head slightly, wincing at the pain.
“Pa, what happened?” he asked.
Ben stroked the top of Joe’s
head gently. “Son, we don’t know what happened,” he said. “We were
hoping you could tell us.”
Joe frowned and tried to think.
He remembered sitting around the campfire, talking with the soldiers. Then,
nothing. Everything was blank after that.
“Pa, I don’t remember what
happened,” said Joe, a note of hysteria in his voice.
“It’s all right, Joe,” said
the voice from behind Ben in a soothing tone. “Don’t try too hard to
remember right now. You’ve had a bad head wound. It’ll take some time for
you to heal properly.”
Joe saw the figure behind Ben
approach the bed. He was a tall, blond man, wearing an Army uniform. The man had
circles of fatigue under his eyes, and the uniform was rumbled, as if the man
had been sleeping in it. “Who are you?” Joe asked in a confused voice.
The man smiled. “My name is
David Andrews,” said the officer. “I’m a doctor.”
“A doctor?” Joe said. His
confusion grew. “Where’s Doc Martin?”
“You’re quite a fortunate
young man,” said Andrews with a grin. “You’ve had two doctors looking
after you. Doctor Martin just left to deliver a baby.”
Joe nodded, and then regretted
the action. His head began to throb again.
“Is your head hurting?” asked
Andrews.
“It feels like someone is
pounding on it with a hammer,” answered Joe.
“I’m not surprised,”
answered Andrews. He moved to the table next to Joe and poured something into a
glass, then added some water and stirred. Andrews brought the glass back to the
bed. “Here,” he said, handing the glass to Ben. “Have him drink this.
It’ll help the headache.”
Ben nodded, and put the glass to
Joe’s lips. Joe lifted his head, and again,
felt the stabbing pain. But he drank from the glass. Joe drank most of the liquid in
the glass, then laid back against the pillow. He tried once more to remember how
he had been hurt but his memory remained blank. “What’s wrong with me,
doctor?” he asked fearfully.
“You got creased in the head by
a bullet,” said Doctor Andrews. “You’ve got a concussion. But you’ll
recover.”
“Why can’t I remember what
happened?” asked Joe, his voice betraying a note of panic.
“It’s not unusual for someone to have a loss of memory when they’re injured, particularly when it’s a head injury,” replied Andrews soothingly.
“It’s as if the brain
doesn’t want to remember the pain, so it deliberately blocks out the memory of
it.”
Joe nodded slightly, but his face
betrayed the panic he was feeling. He blinked his eyes rapidly and he was
breathing hard.
Ben stroked Joe’s arm lightly.
“Joe, we’ll find out what happened,” he assured his son. “Don’t worry
about it now. The important is for you to get well.”
Joe’s eyes went to Ben’s face
and he swallowed hard. “They’re all dead, Pa,” said Joe. “All of them.
Why can’t I remember why they died?”
**************
“Oh no you don’t, little
brother,” said Hoss, pushing gently but firmly against Joe’s chest. “You
ain’t getting out of that bed. Now you lay back down there or else I’m going
to have to sit on you.”
“Hoss, I just wanted to get
some water,” Joe protested weakly. But he laid back against the pillows. Joe
was wearing a thin cotton nightshirt, and a white bandage was still wrapped
around his head. Some color had returned to his face, but he
still looked pale and drawn.
“I’ll get it for you,” said
Hoss in a firm voice. He moved to the table next to the bed, and poured some
water from a pitcher into a glass. “Here you go,” said Hoss, handing the
glass to Joe. “Drink it up, and then you need to get some rest.”
“Thanks,” said Joe as he took
the glass. He lifted his shoulders
off the bed and began to drink.
Hoss watched his brother
carefully as Joe drank. He was concerned that while Joe was improved, his
brother had been having headaches and dizzy spells. Both doctors had assured
Hoss that this was to be expected and would pass, but their assurances didn’t
make Hoss any less worried.
“Thanks,” Joe said again,
handing the glass back to his brother.
Hoss put the glass back on the
table, then turned back to the bed. Joe was laying on the bed, his head
supported by two large pillows. Hoss pulled the covers up to Joe’s shoulders.
“Now, you take a nap,” Hoss ordered.
“Day before yesterday, everyone
was trying to keep me awake,” grumbled Joe. “Now that I don’t feel like
sleeping, everyone tells me to rest. I wish you’d make up your minds.” Joe
knew he was being unreasonable. But he felt another headache coming on and it
made him irritable.
“We’re just naturally hard to
please,” said Hoss with a grin. Then his face grew sober. “Look, Joe, you
were unconscious for almost two days,” said Hoss. “When you finally woke up
a couple of days ago, we had the devil of a time trying to keep you awake. The
doctors just don’t want you to overdo things.”
“Yeah,” said Joe. He rubbed
the bridge of his nose as he scrunched his eyes closed. His headache was
definitely coming back. He could feel his stomach churning and knew the
dizziness would reappear shortly.
“Another headache?” asked
Hoss with concern.
Joe just nodded. He closed his
eyes, hoping to control the nausea and the dizziness.
Hoss walked to the window and
closed the curtains, darkening the room. “You try and sleep,” said Hoss.
“I’ll see if Doc Andrews is back yet. He was going to bring some more of
those powders back with him.”
“Back?” said Joe softly, his
eyes still closed. “Where’d he go?”
“He went over to Fort Harrison
to talk to the Colonel,” explained Hoss. “He wanted to tell him how you were
doing and that you still….” Hoss’ voice trailed off.
“That I still can’t remember
what happened,” Joe finished for his brother. Joe opened his eyes and looked
up at Hoss. “Hoss, I keep thinking about it, but nothing comes to me. I’m
trying, I really am.”
“We know you are, Joe,” said
Hoss in a soothing voice. “Maybe you’re trying too hard. Try not to think
about it for awhile.”
Joe closed his eyes again as the
pounding in his head started to get worse. “Yeah,” he said bitterly. “Try
not to think about seven men being killed, probably right in front of me.
You’d think that wouldn’t be something I could forget.”
Hoss stood silently, not knowing
what to say. Finally, he simply said, “Get some rest.” And then he turned
and walked out of the room.
As Hoss was walking down the
stairs to the main room below, he saw the front door open, and Ben walk in.
“Pa,” Hoss called across the room as he continued down the stairs. “Is Doc
Andrews back yet?”
“No,” said Ben. He looked at
Hoss with alarm. “Why?” he asked. “Is something wrong with Joe?”
“He’s got another
headache,” explained Hoss. “The doctor was going to bring back some more of
those powders.”
“David said he’d be back late
this afternoon,” Ben said with a frown. “Maybe I should send one of the
hands into Virginia City to get some of the powders from Doctor Martin.”
“Joe’s sleeping now,” said
Hoss, hoping he was right. “I think we can wait until Doc Andrews gets
back.” Hoss hesitate a moment, then continued. “Joe’s pretty upset that he
still can’t remember what happened.”
“Yes, I know,” said Ben with
a nod of his head. “He said something to me about it this morning.”
“Do you think he’ll ever
remember?” asked Hoss.
Ben shrugged. “You heard what
David said at dinner last night,” said Ben. “He thinks it’s unlikely that
Joe will remember what happened. That’s why he wanted to ride over to the fort
and talk with Colonel Dickinson.”
“What do you think the
Colonel’s going to do?” asked Hoss.
“I don’t know,” replied Ben
with a shake of head. “I know Colonel Dickinson is a good officer, and he does
want peace with the Piautes. But I also know he can’t just ignore seven of his
men being slaughtered.”
Hoss sighed. “I wish we had
some answers,” he said. “For Joe’s sake as well as everyone else.”
***********
Ben was working at his desk two
hours later when he heard the horse ride into the yard. He was relieved at the
thought that David Andrews was returning. Joe had awaken a little while ago, and
insisted his headache was gone. He had finished the broth Ben brought him and
even complained he was still hungry. Joe told him that he was fine but Ben still worried. Ben knew he
was probably acting like a mother hen, but he still felt better when the doctor
was nearby. Ben was surprised to hear a knock
on the front door. If Doctor Andrews was returning, he would have simply walked
into the house. With a frown, Ben put down his pen and walked to the door. He
was even more surprised when he pulled open the door and saw Major Walker
standing on the porch.
“Hello, Mr. Cartwright,” said
the major in a neutral tone. “May I come in?”
“Of course,” said Ben,
pulling open the door. He didn’t try to hide his surprise. “I thought
you’d be on your way to the Presidio by now.”
“I’ve been granted leave while I clear up my son’s affairs,” said the Major.
“Mr. Cartwright, I’ll get
right to the point. I would like to see your son.”
“Joe?” said Ben. He looked at
the Major suspiciously. “Why do you want to see him?”
“Well, for the obvious reason
that he was the last one to see my son alive,” said the Major. “I’d like
to hear what he has to say.”
“He doesn’t remember what
happened up on Oak Ridge,” said Ben.
“So I understand from Doctor
Andrews,” replied Walker. “Nevertheless, I would like to talk with him.”
“Doctor Andrews is due back
shortly,” said Ben cautiously. “Perhaps we’d better wait and see what the
doctor says.”
“Doctor Andrews will not be
returning to the Ponderosa,” said Major Walker. “He’s received orders to
report to the Presidio as soon as possible. I’m to pick up whatever he may
have left here and take it with me back to the fort.” Major Walker reached
into his pocket and pulled out some white envelopes. “Doctor Andrews sent this
medicine. He said you would know what to do with it.”
Ben took the envelopes from Major
Walker. “I’m sorry David is not coming back,” said Ben slowly. “We would
have liked to thank him for what he did.”
“An Army officer doesn’t have
the luxury of being able to do whatever he wants,” said Major Walker. “Now,
may I see your son?”
Ben rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
He didn’t like the idea the idea that Major Walker was still around while
David Andrews was being sent to the Presidio.
And he liked the idea of the major talking to Joe even less.
“My son is still recovering
from his wound,” said Ben. “I’m not sure he’s up to visitors yet.”
“I promise I’ll be brief,” Walker assured Ben. When Ben still hesitated, the major continued. “Dr. Andrews has advised me that a short talk with your son should cause him no harm.”
“All right,” Ben said
reluctantly. He walked to the stairs, and Walker followed him.
As they climbed the stairs, Ben
asked, “Has Colonel Dickinson any new information about what happened at Oak
Ridge? I understand he was going to send a message to Chief Winnemaka.”
“A lot of good that did,”
said Major Walker bitterly. “All that Piaute said was they were not on the war
path.”
Ben stopped at the top of the
stairs. “That’s good,” said Ben with relief.
“If you choose to believe those
lying devils,” replied Walker.
Ben stared at the major, but said
nothing. He walked down the hall and pushed open the door to Joe’s room.
Joe was sitting up in bed, his
head resting against two pillows. He looked at Major Walker curiously as the
soldier followed Ben into the room.
“Joe, this is Major Walker,”
said Ben. “Lieutenant Walker was his son.”
Joe looked down for a moment,
then raised his eyes. “I’m sorry about your son,” he said.
The Major nodded. “I was hoping
you could tell me what you remember about being on patrol with my son,” said
Walker.
Joe glanced at Ben. Ben nodded his head. Joe turned back to the major.
“There’s not much to tell,”
said Joe. “We spent a week riding around. I showed your son and the rest of
his men some of the landmarks, where the ranches were, and where there were
water holes. They mostly just looked and marked some things on the map.”
“What about the last night?”
asked the Major. “What happened then?”
Joe frowned as he tried to
remember. “We camped down by the creek,” said Joe. “Lieutenant Walker
wanted to ride up on Oak Ridge the next morning, but I explained to him why we
couldn’t do that. I told him if
the Piautes saw an Army patrol up by
their sacred ground, it would cause trouble.”
“And what did my son say to
that?” asked Walker.
“He called it a bunch of Indian
foolishness and superstition,” replied Joe.
Ben was startled by Joe’s
words. Those were the exact words that Major Walker had used when he had told
the major about Oak Ridge.
“Did you argue about going to
Oak Ridge?” asked the major.
Joe shook his head slowly. “I
don’t think so,” he said. “At least, I don’t remember having an
argument.”
“And what happened after
that?” asked Walker.
“I don’t remember anything
after that,” Joe said miserably.
“You don’t remember or you
don’t want to remember?” asked the major sternly.
“Major!” said Ben in warning.
Walker ignored Ben. “I find it
awfully convenient that you can’t seem to remember what happened,” said the
major in an accusing tone. “You don’t have to explain how you led seven men
to their deaths.”
Joe looked stunned.
“Major, that’s enough!”
said Ben.
“You were the scout on that
mission,” said the Major heatedly. “Those men wouldn’t have been on Oak
Ridge if you hadn’t led them there.”
“Major, I think you’d better
leave,” said Ben angrily, grabbing Walker’s arm.
Walker shrugged off Ben’s arm
and walked to the bed. “Admit it!” he shouted in Joe’s face. “You led
those men to Oak Ridge, and when you realized what you had done, you turned and
ran. That’s why you were found so far away from the rest of the troop.”
Joe stared at the major, a
shocked look on his face.
Walker grabbed Joe by the
nightshirt. “You sniveling coward!” screamed Walker. “You led my son and
his men to their death, and now you’re afraid to admit it. You ran to save
your own hide while my son was being slaughtered by the Piautes!”
“That’s enough!” shouted
Ben. He grabbed Walker by the arms and pulled him away from Joe. “Major, I
want you out of this house. Now!”
Major Walker shook Ben’s arms
away. He pulled down his uniform tunic and straightened his back. “I’m
leaving,” he said in a cold voice. He gave Joe a look of pure hate. “But
don’t think this is the end. Before I’m done, everyone will know you are
responsible for my son’s death.” With that, Walker turned and walked out of
the room.
Joe looked at Ben, his face reflecting his shock at the major’s accusations. “Joe, I’m sorry ” said Ben in a soft voice. Joe turned his head and looked away.
**********
That night, the nightmares
started.
Now, Ben was
lying in bed,
staring at the ceiling while his mind churned. He was trying to find the words
to reassure Joe, but what could he say to his son? Ben was convinced Walker was
wrong, but no one knew for sure what had happened on Oak Ridge. Ben also was
worried about what Major Walker planned to do. The Major’s parting words kept
coming back to him. Ben knew Walker was going to make trouble for Joe but Ben
wasn’t sure exactly how.
“No! No, don’t!”
Ben heard the shouts coming from
the room down the hall. He sprang out of his bed and quickly slipped on his
robe.
“No! Stop!”
The cries were louder.
Ben hurried out of his room. He
saw Adam in the corridor and Hoss’ head peaking out of his room. He waved both
of them back as he rushed to Joe’s room. A lamp was burning low in the
bedroom, giving Ben just enough light by which to see. Joe was tossing and
turning in bed, his legs thrashing against the covers. He was moaning and
shouting, but his eyes were still closed. Joe clawed the air as if he were
trying to grab some unseen enemy.
“Joe!” said Ben as he crossed
the room to the bed. He reached down and shook his son’s shoulder hard.
“Joe, wake up!” said Ben urgently. “Wake up, son!”
Joe tried to push Ben’s hand
away, but Ben held his son’s shoulder firmly. He shook it again. “Wake up,
Joe!” said Ben once more. “You’re having a nightmare! It’s just a dream.
Wake up!”
Joe laid still for a moment, then
his eyes opened slowly.
“Pa?” said Joe in a confused
voice.
Ben could see Joe was covered in
sweat and was breathing hard. He stroked his son’s shoulder gently as he
stared into Joe’s eyes. “Joe, are you awake?” he said carefully.
Joe blinked his eyes and nodded.
“You were having a
nightmare,” said Ben, trying to sound reassuring.
Joe nodded again, and swallowed
hard.
“Do you want to tell me about
it?” asked Ben.
Joe shook his head. “No,”
said Joe. He closed his eyes briefly, then looked at Ben. “No, I’m all
right,” said Joe in a shaky voice. “I’m sorry I woke you.”
Ben put his hand on Joe’s
cheek. Despite the sweat, Joe felt cool. “Let me get you some water,” said
Ben. He walked to the table by the bed. He poured some water in a glass. Then he
turned and handed the glass toward Joe. Joe took the glass with shaking
hands, the water splashing against
the sides. Joe quickly put the glass to his lips, and took a deep drink. Then he
handed it back to Ben.
“Joe,
that was some nightmare you were having,” said Ben, trying to smile.
“Why don’t you tell me about it.”
Joe took a deep breath and shook
his head. “No, I don’t want to talk about it,” he said. He shuddered
slightly. “It didn’t make any sense anyway.”
“Sometimes if you talk about
it, it makes a bad dream go away,” insisted Ben.
Joe gave Ben the ghost of a
smile. “Pa, I’m 22, not 2,” said Joe. “I don’t need you to scare the
monsters away, like some kid.”
Ben gave a small laugh. “Joe,
no matter how old you are, you’ll always be my little boy,” admitted Ben.
Then he turned serious. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I’m all right,” said Joe.
But his voice still sounded shaky.
“I’ll sit with you awhile if
you want,” offered Ben.
“No,” said Joe. “Go back to
bed. I’ll be all right.”
“Joe…” Ben said in a
hesitant voice.
“I’m all right, Pa,” Joe
insisted. As if to prove his point, he turned on his side and pulled at the
covers.
Ben stood. “All right, Joe,”
he said. “You get some sleep.”
“ ‘Night, Pa,” Joe said in
a firm but muffled voice.
“Good night, son,” answered
Ben. He took a few steps from the bed, then stopped. He watched Joe for a
minute. Then he turned and left the room. With Joe’s back to him, Ben
couldn’t see that his son was staring at the wall, his face reflecting a
mixture of terror and confusion.
***************
From then on, the nightmare
visited Joe almost every night. A few nights, Joe was able to keep the bad
dreams at bay, managing to wake up as the now familiar images started to build
in his mind. But most nights, he found himself being waken by his father or one
of his brothers, finding that he had roused them with his shouts. Despite the persistent efforts of
Ben, Adam and Hoss, Joe managed to avoid talking about Oak Ridge and Major
Walker’s accusations. He told his family, truthfully, that he still couldn’t
remember anything that had happened near the Piaute holy ground, and, not so
truthfully, that he wasn’t worried about Major Walker’s charges. He also
refused to discuss his nightmares, repeatedly saying that the dreams were merely
a collection of confused images.
But Joe couldn’t prevent
himself from thinking. As he laid in his bed recovering from his injury, his
mind kept returning to that last night around the campfire, and his conversation
with Lieutenant Walker. He tried to remember beyond the campfire, and
occasionally, he thought he had a glimpse of a memory. But the memories proved
elusive and Joe could picture nothing beyond the campfire. Ten days after Ben had carried
his son down from Oak Ridge, Doctor Martin examined Joe and declared him fit
enough to leave his bed.
“Make sure he takes it easy for
awhile,” Doctor Martin told Ben, Adam and Hoss as he sipped a cup of coffee.
He was relaxing with the Cartwrights before visiting his next patient. “No
hard riding, no brawling and no heavy lifting for awhile.” Doctor Martin
hesitated, then added. “And make sure he gets plenty of rest. He looks
tired.”
“Joe hasn’t been sleeping too
well,” said Ben in a worried voice. “Do you think maybe you give him some
sleeping powders?”
Doctor Martin shook his head.
“I hate to do that when there’s a head injury involved,” said the doctor.
“Joe seems to be recovering and I don’t want to take the chance of giving
him something that might slow that recovery.”
“Doc, he still can’t remember
anything about what happened to him,” said Hoss. “It’s really been
bothering him. Ain’t there something you can give him to help that?”
Once more, Doctor Martin shook
his head. “No, Hoss, I’m sorry,” said the doctor. “There’s no medicine
that’s going to restore his memory. I doubt if he’ll ever remember what
happened.”
“I hate the thought of Joe
having to live with the doubt of what happened for the rest of his life,” said
Ben.
“He’s really taking it
hard,” added Adam.
“I know,” said the doctor.
“I wish there was something I could do to help. All I can do is heal his body.
Unfortunately, there’s nothing we can do to heal a troubled mind.”
The conversation was interrupted
by a knock on the door. Adam walked over and pulled open the front door.
“Colonel Dickinson!” Adam
said in surprise. “Come in.”
The Colonel nodded and walked
into the house. He removed his hat and walked over to the other men who were
watching him with a surprise that matched Adam’s. “Hello, Ben,” said the
Colonel. He nodded an acknowledgment at Hoss and Doctor Martin.
“Colonel, I’m surprised to
see you,” said Ben. “Is there anything new? Have you found out something
about Oak Ridge?”
The Colonel looked reluctant to
answer. “No, we haven’t learned anything new,” he said slowly. “But
there is a development, and I wanted
you to hear about it from me.”
The Colonel looked around the
room. “Major Walker has asked for an formal inquiry into his son’s death,”
said the Colonel. “He’s asked that the inquiry be held in Virginia City,
with the expressed purpose of deciding Joe’s responsibility for what
happened.”
“What!” said Ben. “Can he
do that?”
“It’s his right,” said the
Colonel. “An officer can ask for an inquiry into any mission. Considering what
happened to the major’s son, the Army would be hard pressed to deny his
request.” The Colonel looked down. “Ben, I’m just sick about this. Joe
took on the mission as a favor to me,” he said. “If I had any idea that
there was going to be trouble…” The Colonel looked up. “Major Walker has
requested two other senior officers be assigned to the panel. It will take them
awhile to get here. The inquiry will be held in two weeks.”
“Major, how can the military
hold Joe responsible?” asked Hoss. “He’s not a soldier.”
“No, but he was under military
command when the incident occurred,” replied the Colonel. “As a civilian
scout, he’s held to the same rules as any soldier.”
“What about your
investigation?” demanded Adam. “Have you found anything new?”
“No,” replied the Colonel,
with a shake of his head. He looked at Ben. “I’ve done everything I can
think of. I’ve talked with every cowboy or trader who might have been within
50 miles of that ridge. I sent one of my best sergeants, in civilian clothes, up
to that ridge to look around. Nothing has turned up. We still
haven’t a clue about what happened up there.”
“What about Winnemaka?” asked
Ben urgently. “Has he said anything?"
“No,” answered the Colonel.
“Ben, I sent another message to the chief, explaining the situation and asking
to meet with him. He refuses to meet with me, and his only answer continues to
be the Piautes are not are on the war path.”
“Winnemaka is a shrew old
bird,” said Adam. “He probably figures if he doesn’t meet with you, he
won’t be put in a position of lying to you, or having to admit his braves were
involved.”
“Which probably means he knows
something,” said Hoss thoughtfully. “Pa, do you think you could get him to
meet with you?”
“Hoss, I’ve already tried,”
said Ben. Adam and Hoss looked at their father in surprise. “I sent a message
to Winnemaka through Charlie Two Feathers, the wrangler who works on the
Peterson ranch. Charlie is a full Piaute, even though he’s no longer living
with the tribe. Charlie said Winnemaka refuses to meet with
anyone; he won’t discuss what happened.”
“Ben, I haven’t wanted to say
anything,” said Doctor Martin. “But the rumors are already floating around
Virginia City. Major Walker has been in town several times. And he’s let it be
known that he’s sure the Army is going to find that Joe was responsible for
causing the death of those soldiers."
“That’s outrageous!” said
Ben angrily. “What right does he have to accuse Joe. No one knows what
happened up on Oak Ridge.”
“No one but me,” said a voice
from the stairs.
The men in the living room turned
to see Joe walking slowly down the stairs. He was fully dressed, and the bandage
was gone from his head. A dark scab covering the gash on
his forehead was the only sign of his wound.
“I’m the only one who knows
what happened,” said Joe. “Only I can’t remember.” He looked at the
doctor. “And there’s a good chance I’ll never remember, isn’t that
right?”
“That’s right, Joe,” said
Doctor Martin.
Joe looked at Colonel Dickinson.
“What will happen if the inquiry finds that I’m responsible for the death of
those soldiers?” he asked.
“You could be found guilty of
dereliction of duty and sentenced to a prison term,” said the Colonel. “But
I doubt that will happen,” he added quickly as he saw the outrage on the face
of the Cartwrights. “There’s nothing to directly implicate Joe. All the
evidence is circumstantial at best.”
“What does that mean?”
demanded Adam.
“It means the board will
probably find that there’s not enough evidence to convict Joe of anything,”
explained the Colonel.
“But everyone in Virginia City
will think I’m guilty,” said Joe. “Everyone will think I led those
soldiers to their deaths.”
“Joe, that ain’t true,”
protested Hoss.
“No?” said Joe. “And just
what do you think that people will say when I testify that I can’t remember
what happen? How many people do you think are going to believe that?”
“Joe, we believe you,” said
Ben. “And others will too.”
Joe looked at Ben, his eyes
reflecting his misery. “Pa, how can I truthfully say I’m innocent?” said
Joe. “How can I say that when I’m
************
The next two weeks were slow
torture for all the Cartwrights. Joe found himself restricted to the area around
the ranch house by the doctor and his father. He didn’t mind; it allowed him
to avoid the rest of the hands on the ranch. Joe worked hard at every chore he
could find. He was trying to work himself into exhaustion, so he could fall into
a deep, dreamless sleep at night.
Despite his efforts, Joe
couldn’t seem to avoid the nightmare. The images came every night, and they
seemed to grow in intensity. Joe’s cries were becoming a routine part of the
night at the Ponderosa. Three days before the inquiry was
scheduled to begin, Ben was lying in his bed in the middle of the night. He
couldn’t sleep, couldn’t relax. He was waiting tensely for Joe’s now
expected shouts. As the hours passed in silence, Ben moved from waiting to
worrying. He began to wonder why Joe was so silent on this particular night.
Finally, Ben could stand it no
longer. He threw back the covers and climbed out of his bed. Ben shrugged into
his robe and silently padded down the hall to Joe’s room. He quietly pushed
the door open, then froze. Joe’s bed was empty. Ben looked around the room,
searching for some sign of his son. Finding nothing, he turned and hurried down
the hall. He started down the stairs, then stopped.
Ben descended the stairs slowly.
At the bottom of the stairs, he stopped again. “Joe, it’s late,” he
said in the a soft voice. “Don’t you think you should get some sleep?”
Joe turned to look at his father.
“Sleep?” he said with a bitter laugh. “You and I both know sleep is the
last thing I’ll do tonight.”
Ben walked across the room and
sat next to Joe on the table. He put his arm around his son’s shoulders.
“You should try,” he said.
Joe shook his head. “Pa, I
can’t,” he said. “I can’t bear the thought of that nightmare coming back
one more time. I just can’t stand it.”
Ben nodded in understanding.
Joe stared into the fire. “Pa,
I keep thinking and thinking but I still don’t know what happened,” said
Joe. He looked at his father. “What if the major is right? What if I did turn
and run?”
“Joe, you didn’t run,” said
Ben firmly.
“How do you know?” said Joe.
“You weren’t there.”
“I didn’t have to be
there,” said Ben. “I know you.” Ben rubbed Joe across the shoulders.
“Joe, how many times have you faced situations where you could have been hurt
or killed? You never ran, not once.”
“But maybe this time I did,”
said Joe. “Maybe this time, I lost my nerve. It’s possible.”
“No, it’s not possible,”
said Ben, shaking his head. “You know the saying about a leopard not changing
his spots? You couldn’t change your nature, even if you wanted to. You could
never leave seven men to face their deaths while you ran away. You just
couldn’t do it.”
“I wish I could believe you,”
said Joe. “I want to believe you.”
“You don’t have to believe me,” said Ben. “Listen to