Arizona Trail
The hot desert sun shone down relentlessly on the men riding across the barren
land. Each of the three men rode slowly. They were riding unfamiliar horses and
each of them was leading another. Ben Cartwright halted the roan he was riding.
He pointed to the rocks to his right, making sure his sons, Hoss and Joe, knew
the waterhole was just ahead. The men behind him nodded their understanding.
Ben
guided his horse carefully across the sandy ground toward the waterhole. He had
paid a lot of money for the stallion he was riding, and he didn’t want
anything to happen to it. Ben chucked his horse forward, up a narrow trail. The
animal got a whiff of the water and started to walk faster. Ben held the animal
carefully in check as they moved forward. He knew the horse was eager to get to
the water, as was the stallion Ben was leading, but he also wanted to make sure
the animals didn’t injure themselves in their rush to get a drink. Ben’s
horse finally reached the waterhole and Ben let him drink his fill. The stallion
he was leading also rushed forward and began to drink. A moment later, Hoss and
Joe joined their father. Both were riding newly purchased horses, and leading
another. They also let their animals drink deeply from the water.
“Pretty
desolate country,” Joe commented as he sat patiently, waiting for his horse to
finish drinking.
Ben
looked around. The land around them was sandy and flat. Rocks of all sizes
dotted the landscape. A few scraggly bushes struggled to grow in the arid soil.
The country around them was not inviting. It looked hard and unyielding.
“This
trail is not exactly the easiest one,” Ben agreed. “But it’s the fastest
way to get from Arizona to Nevada.”
“I
still think we should have hired some hands to bring these horses home,” Joe
grumbled. “We only stopped in Tucson to change stages, not buy horses. We
should be riding home in a stage, not on horseback.”
Ben
sighed. Joe had been complaining about the ride since they left Tucson. “Joe,
I told you before,” Ben said patiently. “These horses were such a good
bargain, I couldn’t pass them up. The rancher I met in the hotel needed money
fast. They’re fine animals. They will improve our stock a lot.”
“I
don’t disagree,” Joe said. “I just hate riding them back to the
Ponderosa.”
“Joe,
who were we going to get to bring them back?” Hoss asked reasonably. “We
don’t know anyone in Tucson well enough to trust them with these horses.”
Joe
shrugged. “We could have found somebody,” he said. “I’d just rather be
on that stage.”
“You’re
wanting to be on that stage couldn’t have anything to do with that pretty
little gal I saw you talking with, could it?” asked Hoss wryly. “I thought I
heard her say she was taking the stage to Carson City.”
“Yeah,
but the stage to Carson stops in Virginia City first,” Joe said. He grinned at
his brother. “You have to admit, she was a lot prettier to look at than
you,” said Joe.
“That
ain’t saying much, little brother,” Hoss replied with a grin. “Besides, I
thought you were sweet on Peggy Matthews.”
“Peggy
is a nice girl,” admitted Joe. His grin widened. “I’m just keeping my
options open,” Joe added.
Ben
shook his head as he listened. He wondered if Joe was ever going to get serious
about anyone. He seemed to flit from one girl to another, like a bee looking for
honey. “Joseph, someday you’re going to find a girl who’s going to tame
that wild streak of yours,” Ben said.
“Probably,”
said Joe with a smile. “But until then, I’m going to have as much fun as
possible. You know what they say, live today because you never know what
tomorrow might bring. I’d hate to have missed something along the way.”
Hoss
roared with laughter as Ben shook his head again in exasperation.
“Fill
up those canteens,” Ben said to Hoss. “I want to make sure we have plenty of
water.” Hoss nodded and dismounted. He pulled two canteens from his saddle,
then reached up and took two from Joe. He knelt next to the waterhole, and began
filling the canteens.
“Pa,
how far do you figure to ride today?” Hoss asked as he worked. He reached down
to cup some water into his mouth.
“It’s
about 30 miles to Fort Howard,” replied Ben, looking off into the distance.
“I figure we can make it there by nightfall.”
“That’s
pushing it kind of hard, isn’t it?” Joe said as he reached down to take two
of the dripping canteens from Hoss. He took a drink from one, and passed the
other to his father. Ben also took a drink.
“Maybe,”
answered Ben as he wiped his mouth. “But I’d prefer not to camp in open
country. The Apaches around here aren’t exactly friendly.”
Hoss
stood and looped the straps of the canteens around his saddle. “You think
we’ll have some trouble?” he asked.
Ben
shook his head. “No, not really,” he replied. “But it doesn’t take much
to set them off.” He watched as Hoss remounted his horse. “Let’s go,
boys,” Ben urged his sons. “I want to try to make Fort Howard by tonight.”
*******************
The
Cartwrights were about a mile from the waterhole when they heard the first
sounds of gunfire. The noise was distant and muted. Ben frowned and pulled his
horse to a stop. Joe and Hoss quickly rode up beside him. The three men listened
in silence. The gunfire sounded like a string of firecrackers popping in the
distance. Whoever was shooting was engaged in a fierce battle.
“What
do you think, Pa?” Hoss asked.
“I
don’t know,” Ben said, his frown deepening. “Could be Apaches, could be
outlaws, could be anyone.”
“Do
you think we should take a look?” Joe asked. “Somebody might need some
help.”
The
whoop of an Indian war cry stopped Ben from answering. He looked over his
shoulder and saw a band of about twenty Indians riding toward them. The Indians
were a good distance behind them, but they were gaining ground fast.
“Let’s
ride!” Ben yelled to his sons. He didn’t stop to see if they heard him. Ben
kicked his horse hard, and sent the animal into a gallop. He yanked hard on the
rope of the horse he was leading, and that animal began running also. Ben turned
his head slightly. He could see Joe and Hoss had urged their horses into a
gallop, also. All of the horses were running across the sand at top speed.
Ben
had no particular destination in mind. He simply wanted to outrun the Indians or
find a place where they could find cover for a fight. It didn’t take him long
to realize that the sound of gunfire was getting louder. They were riding right
into the middle of a battle.
Ben
saw the flash of gunfire and the sun glinting off rifle barrels in some rocks
ahead of him. The rocks formed a large semi-circle in front of a ravine. The
ground behind the ravine was flat for a hundred yards or so, then seemed to drop
off into canyon. .A band of Indians were riding back and forth in front of the
rocks, firing toward the boulders as they passed. Without hesitation, Ben guided
his horse toward the rocks. He didn’t know who was hiding behind them, but
they were firing at the Apaches. Ben figured they must be on the same side.
Ben
dropped the rope of the horse he was leading. The animal continued to run along
side. Ben pulled his gun from his holster and began firing in the direction of
the Apaches in front of him. He heard shots coming from his left, and knew Joe
and Hoss were doing the same.
The
Indians near the rocks had their attention
on the ravine. The shots from behind them startled the Apaches. Two fell
from their horses as Cartwright bullets found their mark. The Indians slowed and
milled around in confusion. Another brave slumped forward as a bullet hit him in
the shoulder. One of the Apaches raised his arm and yelled, then led his horse
away from the rocks. The other Indians followed.
Ben
urged his horse on, hoping to reach the safety of the rocks and ravine before
the Indians turned to attack again. As his horse neared the rocks, Ben pulled
him to a stop abruptly. The horse skidded for a step or two, then stopped.
Ben
looked around quickly, and was relieved to see Hoss and Joe stopping behind him.
Both men looked uninjured.
“Grab
the canteens and rifles!” Ben yelled. He followed his own orders and
dismounted.
“Lead
your horses into the ravine!” a voice shouted from the rocks. Ben hesitated,
looking toward the steep drop ahead. He could see several horses standing in the
ravine. Ben grabbed the reins of his horse and led the animal forward. Hoss and
Joe did the same.
The
ravine was about seven feet deep. The sides were steep and sandy. Ben hesitated
again as he stood on the lip. However, the shriek of a war cry quickly decided
him. Ben started down the ravine, leading his unwilling horse.
The
ravine was a perfect corral for the horses once they were in it. It was only
about twenty feet long. The sides were steep, and the horses seemed to have no
desire to try to climb out. The animals already in the ravine eyed the new
arrivals nervously, but they stood still. Ben, Hoss and Joe led the horses with
saddles into the ravine. The other horses were still standing about ten feet
behind the ravine.
“Pa…”
Hoss started to say as he looked back at the horses they had left behind.
“Forget
them,” Ben ordered quickly. “They’re not worth getting killed for.”
Ben
glanced at the other horses around them. He saw they were wearing military
saddles and blankets. Ben turned to look at the rocks. Five men wearing the blue
uniforms of Army cavalry were crouched behind the rocks. One man waved his arm,
gesturing to the Cartwrights to join them.
The
Apaches were riding toward the rocks again. Ben quickly dropped the reins from
his hand. He looked over his shoulder to check on Hoss and Joe. Both of his sons
had already grabbed rifles and canteens, and were working their way down the
ravine. Ben followed them.
The
ravine sloped gently upward when it reached the ground behind the rocks. Ben,
Hoss and Joe climbed the slope quickly and dove behind the boulders. The
soldiers were already firing at the Indians in front of them. The Cartwrights
started doing the same.
Half
a dozen Apaches fell off their horses as they charged the rocks. The shooting
from the ravine was deadly accurate. The Indians quickly turned their horses and
rode out of range. They stopped a hundred yards or so away. Thirty or so Apaches
pulled their horses together, trying to decide what to do next.
“Sergeant
William Bailey, at your service, sir,” a voice next to Ben said cheerfully.
Ben turned to look at the man. Bailey was in his forties, a big man with broad
shoulders and chest. Ben could see some locks of sandy hair drooping out from
the cap the sergeant had pushed back on his head.
“Ben
Cartwright,” Ben said, sticking out his hand to the sergeant. “These are my
sons, Joe and Hoss.” Joe and Hoss both looked at the soldier and nodded.
“Glad
to meet you,” said Bailey with a smile. “You don’t know how glad we are to
meet you.”
Ben
looked out from rocks. Bodies, some Indian and some wearing blue uniforms, were
scattered across the ground. He turned back to look at the other soldiers
scattered among the rocks. All wore the uniforms of Army privates.
“What
set them off, Sergeant?” Ben asked curiously.
Bailey’s
face grew serious. “Our young lieutenant decided to turn a routine patrol into
a prison detail,” Bailey said. “He tried to capture two braves who were
herding some cattle across the desert. One of them got away, and he came back
with his friends. They rescued the brave, and now they’re after us.”
Ben
craned his neck to look over the sergeant’s shoulder. Again he saw the men
behind the rocks were wearing private’s uniforms.
“He’s
out there,” said Bailey, gesturing with his rifle. “The Apaches got four of
us before we could get to these rocks.”
“Sarge,
why are they so bent on getting the rest of you?” Hoss asked. “If they got
their brave back, they should be happy.”
“Beating
up a prisoner?” Joe said in disgust. “That doesn’t sound like the Army’s
way of doing things.”
Bailey
glanced over his shoulder before answering. “This ain’t exactly the
best group of soldiers the Army has to offer,” said Bailey. “In fact,
everyone in this unit was assigned because he’s been in trouble. The Colonel
figured he would save some headaches by putting them all in the one place.”
“Including
you?” Hoss asked in surprise.
“I
got drunk one night and tore up a bar,” Bailey admitted. “Sent three men to
the doctor’s office. The Colonel assigned me here as punishment.”
Hoss
grinned. “Three men, eh?” he said.
Bailey
grinned and nodded.
“What
happened with the brave?” Ben asked with a frown.
Bailey’s
face grew sober again. “We left him with the patrol while the lieutenant and I
scouted the trail,” explained Bailey. “I didn’t want to do it, but the
lieutenant insisted I come with him. He was pretty green, just got out here. I
think he was afraid he’d get lost. I was already in enough trouble, and I
didn’t want to get into more for not following orders. When we got back, the
brave was tied to a tree. He was bleeding and bruised.
Carney
over there insisted he had tried to escape.”
“You
don’t believe him?” Joe asked.
“Carney
likes beating up on people,” Bailey said. “He’s done it before.”
Joe
looked past Bailey at the other four soldiers. His face showed his disgust with
the men.
“They’re
not very good soldiers, but they can fight when they have to,” said Bailey as
he noted the look on Joe’s face. “One thing they can all do is shoot
straight.”
Suddenly,
the air was split with the shout of a war cry. Everyone’s attention was turned
back to the ground in front of them. What looked like a solid wall of Indians
was riding toward the rocks. The Apaches had formed themselves into several rows
of riders, and they were riding straight toward the ravine.
“We’re
going to find out how straight they can shoot,” Hoss said as he aimed his
rifle.
“Hold
your fire until they’re closer!” Bailey shouted to the men behind him.
“Don’t shoot until you’re sure you can hit something!”
The
Apaches rode fast and straight. The men behind the rocks aimed carefully, each
picking out a target. One of the soldiers suddenly fired. A brave fell from his
horse. The other men behind the rocks started to shoot.
But
suddenly, their carefully chosen targets weren’t there. At the sound of the
first shot, the Apaches turned their horses, some to the right, some to the
left. The movement caught the men in the ravine by surprise. Their shots sped
into empty air.
Quickly,
the Apaches reformed and charged again. The men behind the rocks began firing
quickly, trying to hit anything. Several horses and braves hit the ground, but
many more Apaches surged forward. The shots from behind the rocks came faster,
as the Indians came closer. One brave jumped off his horse and dove into the
rocks. He landed on top of Bailey.
Bailey
struggled with the man, trying to keep the knife the brave had in his hand away
from him. The sergeant was losing the battle. The Apache had landed on
Bailey’s back, and Bailey couldn’t turn himself enough to fight the man off.
Joe
jumped to his feet, and ran to the pair rolling in the dirt. Joe quickly turned
his rifle around. He used the butt to club the Indian on the head. The brave
suddenly went limp. Bailey pushed the man off him, and grabbed the knife from
the brave. He stuck the knife in his belt, then picked up the Indian. With a
mighty heave, he threw the man from behind the rocks and onto the ground in
front of him.
“Thanks!”
Bailey said breathlessly to Joe. “I thought he had me.”
Joe
nodded and ran back to his place in the rocks. As he neared the boulders, Joe
suddenly flopped to the ground. Bailey turned his attention to the Indians who
were charging again. He picked up his rifle and started firing.
“They
won’t try that again,” Bailey said with satisfaction. He watched as the
Indians turned their horses. The Apaches simply stood, watching the rocks in
front of them.
“Looks
like they’re going to stay put for a bit,” Ben said. “Maybe we discouraged
them.”
“I
wouldn’t count on that,” Bailey replied. He turned and yelled over his
shoulder. “You men all right?”
Four
voices answered back. Bailey nodded again in satisfaction.
Ben
looked to Hoss. “Are you all right?” he asked his son. Hoss nodded. Ben
looked past Hoss. Joe was laying on the ground, his back toward his father.
“Joe? Are you all right?” Ben shouted.
Ben
expected his youngest son to turn and answer him. But Joe laid still on the
ground. “Joe!” Ben said in alarm. Hoss also suddenly realized his brother
hadn’t answered. Both Ben and Hoss rushed over to Joe.
Joe’s
left arm was extended and his head was pillowed on it. He was laying on his
side, his back toward the other men. His hat was pushed back on his head. As Ben
reached his son, he gently turned Joe onto his back.
Joe’s
eyes were closed, and his mouth was slack. A circle of red was quickly spreading
over Joe’s shirt and jacket. Ben quickly pulled his son’s shirt and jacket
open. He gasped as he saw the bullet wound in Joe’s shoulder.
The
bullet had struck Joe in the right shoulder, just under his collarbone. Blood
was oozing out of the wound. Ben probed the wound gently with his fingers. Joe
groaned.
“Is
he hit?” Bailey asked, coming up behind Ben.
Ben
nodded. “The bullet is still in there,” he said in a grim voice. “I
can’t tell how deep.”
Bailey
bent down to look over Ben’s shoulder. “It don’t look too bad,” Bailey
said. “I’ve seen worse. But we’ve got to get that bullet out quick.
Otherwise, that wound will fester.” Bailey stood and looked around. “Take
him down toward the bottom of the ravine,” Bailey ordered. “That will give
us some room, and keep him out of the line of fire.”
Ben
nodded again. He reached down to pick up his son, but Hoss shouldered him aside.
“I’ve got him, Pa,” Hoss said.
Ben
looked up at Hoss. “We’ll both carry him,” Ben said firmly. Hoss nodded.
Ben
moved to the other side of his injured son. He carefully slid his arm under
Joe’s injured shoulder, then reached down and slid his other arm under Joe’s
knees. He saw Hoss was doing the same. With a nod, both men lifted Joe off the
ground. Joe’s head flopped to the side, and his legs dangled in the air.
Bailey
took a step back as Ben and Hoss carried Joe carefully down the ravine. He
watched as the two older Cartwrights stepped cautiously down the hill. When he
was sure they could manage all right, Bailey turned back to the rocks. “You
men keep your eyes peeled,” he ordered. “Holler if it looks like them
Indians are going to do anything.” One
of the men waved at Bailey.
Bailey
turned and walked slowly to the bottom of the ravine.
Ben
and Hoss had put Joe gently on the ground. Joe was beginning to regain
consciousness. His head moved slowly from side to side. He moaned in pain as he
began to wake.
“Easy,
Joe, easy,” Ben said in a soothing voice.
Joe’s
eyes fluttered opened. He winced in pain, and gritted his teeth. Then his eyes
opened wider. He looked at Ben, a question in his eyes.
“You’ve
got a bullet in your shoulder,” Ben explained. “It doesn’t look too bad,
but we need to dig it out.”
Joe
nodded, then winced again as a wave of pain radiated through his body.
“I’ve
taken out a couple of bullets in my time,” Bailey said to Joe. “You trust me
to dig this one out of you?”
Joe
glanced over to Ben, who nodded slightly. Joe turned back to Bailey. “Go
head,” he said. Joe winced and grunted again. He took a deep breath.
“It
couldn’t hurt any worse than this,” Joe said in a choked voice.
Bailey
turned toward the top of the hill. “Carney, bring me that bottle of ‘snake
bite’ medicine you always carry,” Bailey shouted.
“Don’t
give me that,” Bailey shouted back at him. “I know you got a bottle. Now
bring it down here.”
Carney
sighed. He reached inside his shirt and pulled out a small bottle, shaped like a
flask. He pulled the top off the bottle, and quickly brought it
to his mouth. Carney took a long drink.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then pushed the cork back
into the top of the bottle. Then he started slowly down the hill.
“Here,”
Carney said, thrusting the bottle into Bailey’s hand. “I only keep it for
emergencies.”
“Good,”
replied Bailey evenly. “’Cause this is an emergency. Now go back down to
those horses. There’s some bandages in my saddlebag. Go get them and bring
them over here.”
“Aw,
Sarge,” Carney started to whine.
“Just
do as I say,” barked Bailey. The soldier reluctantly got to his feet. He
walked to the bottom of the ravine. Then, crouching low, he started toward the
horses.
Bailey
watched the soldier for a minute, making sure his orders were being followed.
Then he turned back to Joe. “You want a slug of this?” he asked.
Joe
shook his head. “No,” he said. “Just get that bullet out.” Bailey
nodded.
“Better
hold him,” Bailey advised. “This is going to hurt.”
Ben
nodded grimly. He moved to Joe’s left and firmly put his hands on Joe’s
uninjured shoulder. Hoss moved to hold Joe’s legs.
Bailey
unbuttoned Joe’s shirt. He pulled open Joe’s shirt then eased both the shirt
and jacket off Joe’s shoulder. He tried to be gentle, but Joe groaned in pain
as the sergeant worked. Bailey finally got Joe’s arm out his sleeve. He pulled
the cloth away from Joe and folded it under back of Joe’s arm.
Bailey
looked Joe straight in the eyes. “Ready?” he asked. Joe took a deep breath,
closed his eyes and nodded.
The
next thing Joe felt was a burning, searing pain in his shoulder. His mouth
opened as he let out a groan. His body tried to move instinctively away from the
pain, but Ben and Hoss held him firm. Joe turned his head and gritted his teeth
as his body became rigid. The pain seemed to be getting worse. Joe felt as if a
hot poker were boring deep into his body. He groaned and grunted as the pain
increased. He wondered how much longer he could stand it. Then suddenly, the
pain eased.
“Got
it!” Bailey said triumphantly, holding a small piece of lead in his
blood-stained hand. He quickly threw it aside. Bailey picked the whiskey bottle
up off the ground where he had laid it. He began pouring the whiskey onto
Joe’s shoulder.
Joe
groaned again as he felt another white hot pain in his shoulder. The burning
seemed endless this time. Joe tried to move, to do anything to ease the pain.
But his body was firmly pressed to the ground by strong hands.
“Easy,
Joe, take it easy,” Ben said once again, trying to soothe his son. His face
was creased with pain also as he watched his son’s agony. He knew Bailey was
doing what had to be done, but it didn’t make it any easier for him to watch.
“It’s all over now,” Ben said. “Just try to relax.”
Bailey
turned to look down the ravine. “Carney, where are you?” he shouted. “I
need those bandages.”
Carney
seemed to be studying something at the end of the ravine. At Bailey’s shout,
he quickly turned and started back down the ravine, crouching low as he moved
past the horses.
“Here,”
Carney said, thrusting some white cloth into Bailey’s hands. Bailey nodded and
turned back to Joe.
Joe
was pale and his face was covered with sweat. His breathing was rapid, and came
in ragged bursts. He grunted and winced in pain.
“You
can let him go,” Bailey said to Ben. Ben nodded and removed his hands from
Joe’ shoulder. He gently stroked Joe’s arm as Bailey began to bandage the
injured shoulder.
Carney
watched Bailey work. “Hey, Sarge,” he said as Bailey tied the bandages
around Joe’s shoulder, then looped the cloth around Joe’s chest.
“Not
now,” Bailey growled at the soldier.
“But
Sarge…” Carney said again.
“I
said not now!” barked Bailey again. “Get back up there and keep an eye on
those Indians.”
Carney’s
face went hard. “Fine,” he said in disgust. He turned and quickly climbed
back up the hill.
Hoss
looked at the sergeant with a questioning expression. “Don’t you think you
ought to have listened to him?” Hoss asked.
Bailey
looked up at Hoss. “He’s the one that beat up that Indian,” Bailey said.
“If it weren’t for him, we wouldn’t be in this mess. I’m not interested
in anything he has to say.”
Hoss
started to say something, but Joe groaned softly, pulling Hoss’ attention back
to his brother. Joe’s breathing had slowed, but his face still reflected the
pain he was feeling. “You’re going to be fine, little brother,” Hoss said
in a reassuring voice. Joe nodded his head slightly.
Bailey
sat back on his heels and studied his handiwork. “He should be all right with
some rest,” he said. “That bullet wasn’t too deep. It hurts, and he lost
some blood, but with some rest, he should be fine.”
Ben
looked at the sergeant. “Thank you,” he said softly.
Bailey
shrugged. “He got that bullet because he was helping me,” said Bailey. “I
figured I owed him.” Bailey glanced up the hill. “I’d better get back up
there. You two stay with him. I’ll call you if we need you.” Bailey stood
and climbed back up the hill.
Ben
gently stroked Joe’s head. “Hoss, go get one of the canteens,” said Ben,
his eyes never leaving Joe’s face. Hoss nodded, and he began to climb the hill
also. Ben continued to stroke Joe’s head. “Everything is all right now,
Joseph,” he said softly. “You just rest. Everything is fine.” Ben shook
his head as he listened to his own words. They were stuck in a ravine, facing a
band of angry Apaches. His youngest son had a bullet hole in his shoulder. There
seemed to be no way out of the ravine, and he didn’t know how long their
ammunition and water would last. Ben
laughed grimly. Sure, he thought, everything is just fine.
**********
The
Indians seemed more interested in keeping the men trapped in the ravine than
staging a serious attack. They half-heartedly charged the ravine several times
during the remainder of the day, but each charge was brief.
The Apaches seemed more interested in finding out how close they could
get to the rocks before the men in
the ravine started shooting than they were on inflicting any serious damage.
Each charge was fast and quick, with the Indians retreating almost as soon as
the gunfire erupted from the rocks. Neither side inflicted any damage.
Ben
had insisted Hoss stay with Joe at the bottom of the ravine during the rest of
the day. He knew the odds were very slim that a stray bullet would find its way
to the bottom of the ravine. He had one son with a bullet wound; he wasn’t
about to risk anything happening to his other son. Ben had convinced Hoss that
someone had to look after Joe, and Hoss was best suited for the task. That was
partially true. But Ben also wanted to keep his older son safe.
At
the first sound of fighting after Bailey had removed the bullet from Joe, Ben
climbed to the top of the ravine to join the soldiers. He had fired his rifle a
few times, more to discourage the charging Apaches than anything else. He
doubted if he had hit anything during the latest series of charges. The Indians
seemed to know how close they could come and still stay out of the range of the
murderous gunfire from behind the rocks.
“What
do you think they’re waiting for?” Ben asked Bailey at one point. He
couldn’t understand the Apaches’ apparent tactic of simply keeping them
pinned behind the rocks.
Bailey
shrugged in reply. “Who knows?” he said. “Maybe they’re waiting for
reinforcements. Or maybe they’re simply waiting for Cochise to tell them
it’s all right to leave.” Bailey shook his head. “Maybe they just want to
see how long it will be before we run out of ammunition.”
Bailey had cautioned his men to fire sparingly, to save their ammunition
for what might be the real battle. But it was not humanly possible for anyone of
them not to shoot when the Apache came charging across the ground, screaming and
shooting at them. All of the men still had a good supply of bullets, but the
supply was beginning to dwindle.
The
long pauses between the attacks gave Ben a chance to study the other soldiers
hiding behind the rocks. He wasn’t sure he liked what he saw.
Carney,
the soldier who had given the whiskey to Bailey, was a short man with a mean
looking face. He had pointedly ignored Bailey after Bailey had rebuffed him in
the ravine, acting like a child who was pouting after some sort of parental
punishment. He seemed to enjoy killing; his face broke into an evil grin every
time he began shooting at the Apaches.
The
other men looked equally as unpleasant. One was tall and thin, and his face
seemed to be set in a permanent scowl. Bailey had called him Hoffman. Another
was about average height, at least he looked that way as he crouched behind the
rocks. He had long, dark hair and sported a thin mustache. His name was
Williams, and he seemed more interested in keeping behind the protection of the
rocks than firing at the Apache. The last man seemed a bit younger than the
rest. He was thin and blonde, and he seemed to find the battle exciting. Ben had
heard Bailey shout at him several times, calling the young man Peterson.
Peterson was the one who most often started the shooting. He would fire wildly
at the first sign of an Apache charge, rarely hitting anything, but he would
shout with excitement as he fired.
Ben
shook his head as he studied the men next to him. Bailey hadn’t lied when he
called them misfits. Ben didn’t like the idea of his life and the lives of his
sons being dependent on these soldiers.
The
hot Arizona sun blazed down from a cloudless sky during the day. Ben had checked
on Joe periodically during the day, usually after one the charges when the
Apaches seemed content to leave the men pinned behind the rocks. Joe had slept
the day away, exhausted by the pain wound and the loss of blood. Hoss had
assured his father repeatedly that Joe was doing as well as could be expected
under the circumstances, but that didn’t stop Ben from worrying. He wanted
desperately to get Joe to a doctor. He wouldn’t feel confident about his
youngest son’s condition until he did.
The
sun was low in the afternoon sky as Ben climbed down the ravine yet again to
check on Joe. He was pleased to see that Joe was awake. Hoss was holding Joe’s
head up as Joe drank from a canteen. Ben crouched next to his son as Joe handed
the canteen back to Hoss. Hoss eased Joe’s head back to the ground. He had
pulled Joe’s shirt back on his brother’s shoulder, but removed his jacket.
The jacket was folded under Joe’s head as a pillow. The angle of the sun gave
long shadows to the rocks above them, and the shadows gave Joe a bit of shade.
“How
are you feeling?” asked Ben with a smile as he knelt next to Joe.
“I’m
all right,” Joe answered. He shifted slightly on the hard ground. “Wish we
could have found someplace softer to hole up in,” he complained.
Ben’s
smile widened. If Joe was complaining, he was feeling better. “I’ll take
that into consideration next time we’re being chased by a band of angry
Apaches,” Ben said wryly. He put his hand on Joe’s forehead. Joe’ head
felt warm, but his fever seemed very mild. Ben noted he was covered with a thin
layer of sweat, but no more than to be expected after laying most of the day in
the hot Arizona sun. A small blotch of blood
was visible on the bandage on Joe’s shoulder, but the blood looked rusty and
dried.
“It
didn’t seem to keep you from sleeping the last couple of hours,” Hoss teased
his brother mildly.
“That’s
because I didn’t have to listen to your snoring,” Joe said to Hoss with a
weak smile. Then he sobered and turned to his father. “What’s going on?”
he asked. “Are those Apaches still out there?”
“Yes,”
admitted Ben. “They don’t seem to be planning to leave. But all they’re
doing is keeping us pinned down.”
“What
are they planning?” asked Hoss with a frown.
“I
wish I knew,” Ben said, shaking his head. “They seem to be waiting for
something, but I don’t know what.”
Hoss’
frown deepened. “Maybe I should go back up by the rocks,” he suggested.
“No,
“ Ben said quickly. “You stay here with Joe. We’ll call if we need you.”
He
wanted to keep both his sons as safe as possible. “Right now, all you’d be
is another target.”
“Yeah,
and one that’s hard to miss,” added Joe wryly.
Ben
smiled, then patted Joe lightly on the shoulder. “You take it easy and
rest,” he said to his youngest son. “We’ll figure a way out of this
soon,” he promised. He looked up at Hoss and nodded encouragingly. Then Ben
turned and climbed back up the hill.
“How’s
he doing?” Bailey asked Ben as he settled into the rocks next to the sergeant.
“He
seems to be doing all right,” Ben said. “The bleeding has stopped, and he
only has a low fever. But I’ll feel better when we can get a doctor
at the fort to look at him.”
“I
think we’d all feel better if we could get back to the fort,” said Bailey
ironically.
“Hey,
Sarge, I’m getting hungry,” shouted Williams from behind his rock.
“Well,
what do you want me to do, cook you a steak dinner?” Bailey shouted back.
“I’m sure those Apaches wouldn’t mind if we told them to call this off
because you’re hungry.” Williams
scowled at the sergeant and turned back to watch the ground in front of the
rocks.
Bailey
turned to Ben. “I sure wish I had my old patrol,” he said quietly with a
shake of head. “I’m not sure what these yahoos are going to do.”
Ben
nodded. He also wished he had more confidence in the men around him. “I wish
we had a battalion,” Ben said wryly. He took a deep breath. “Any chance they
might send a patrol from the fort looking for you?” he asked hopefully.
Bailey
shook his head. “We’re not due back for four or five days,” said the
sergeant. “It’ll be a week
before they start looking for us.”
“Then
I guess we’re stuck with these men,” said Ben.
“Yeah,”
said Bailey. “We’re stuck with ‘em all right. I’m not sure who’s more
dangerous – those Apaches or those so-called soldiers behind these rocks.”
Ben
frowned and turned back to watch the ground in front of him. “Let’s hope we
don’t have to find out,” he muttered.
******************
At
dusk, the men behind the rocks saw what the Apaches were waiting for. A group of
fifteen Indians, led by a well-muscled brave, rode in from the West. The Indians
who had been attacking the rocks welcomed the new arrivals.
“That’s
Many Horses, one of Cochise’s
young war chiefs,” Bailey muttered as he watched the scene. He turned to Ben
and smiled ironically. “I think we might really be in trouble now.” Ben
nodded grimly.
The
men behind the rocks watched the Apaches carefully. The greeting shouts from the
braves ended quickly. Many Horses yelled and gestured at the braves, seeming
unhappy that they hadn’t yet finished with the men in the ravine. One brave
seemed to be trying to explain something to Many Horses, but he brushed the man
aside. Many Horses began shouting orders.
“Oh,
oh,” Bailey said. He turned to Ben. “I think you’d better get your son up
here. We’re going to need every gun we’ve got.”
Ben
agreed. He turned and shouted down the ravine. “Hoss, get up here with your
rifle,” Ben yelled. “We’re going to need you.” He turned back to watch
the Apaches again.
The
Apaches were forming themselves to charge when Ben saw Hoss crouching next to
him from the corner of his eye. Another movement behind Hoss drew Ben’s
attention. He turned his head. Joe was struggling to the top of the ravine. His
shirt was buttoned about half-way and his arm rested in the shirt as if in a
sling. Joe had a pistol in his left hand.
“Joe,
what do you think you’re doing?” Ben yelled as his youngest son crouched
next to Hoss.
Joe
winced as he positioned himself behind a boulder, and leaned back against a
smaller rock. He turned to Ben. “I’m not about to lay down there waiting for
those Apaches to take my scalp,” he said grimly. “I can still pull a
trigger.”
“Joe…”
Ben started to say with concern.
“Here
they come!” yelled one of the soldiers from Ben’s right. He quickly turned
back to the open ground in front of the rocks. About forty Apaches were charging
at the rocks, riding at full speed across the ground. Several were shouting war
cries as they rode.
“Hold
your fire until they’re closer,” Bailey ordered. “Make sure they’re in
range before you shoot.”
The
Apaches charged until they were about ten feet from the rocks then slowed as
they pulled rifles up to their shoulders. Peterson led the shooting from behind
the rocks once again. His first shot knocked a young brave from his horse.
The
rest of men opened fire as soon as Peterson shot his rifle. Once again, their
shooting was deadly. Several Apaches fell to the ground, and others slumped
against the horses. Bullets whizzed into the rocks as the Indians fired but the
Cartwrights and the soldiers were well-hidden. The Apaches suffered heavy
casualties while their bullets landed harmlessly.
Many
Horses, the young war chief, was in the middle of the charging Apaches. He
seemed startled at the turn of events. He began to pull his horse to a stop and
shouting orders. He suddenly winced and grabbed his arm as a bullet grazed his
shoulder. Many Horses needed no more evidence of the fool-heartiness of charging
the rocks. He shouted another order and turned his horse away. As he rode off,
the rest of the Apaches followed him.
“Guess
we showed him!” whooped Peterson from the far end of the rocks.
“Yeah,
we showed him,” Bailey said grimly. He watched as the Apaches pulled their
horses together yet again in the distance. A minute later, two braves rode off,
galloping their horses to the west. “We showed them that they need more
help”, continued Bailey. “We’ll probably have the whole Apache nation down
on us by morning.”
Ben
quickly glanced over his shoulder to his sons. Hoss turned his head and grinned
at his father. Ben looked passed him to Joe. Joe waved his arm weakly. Ben let
out a sigh of relief. Both of his sons had apparently survived the attack
without further injury.
The
men crouched behind the rocks watched as the Apaches began dismounting. It
looked as if they were making camp. Ben glanced up at the sky. The sun was
rapidly disappearing and the sky darkening.
“They
probably won’t do anything until morning,” Ben said sitting up. “The
Apache don’t like to fight at night. They’re afraid if they’re killed,
their spirit will get lost in the dark.”
Bailey
nodded his agreement. “We’ve got 9 or 10 hours,” he said. “We’d better
use it as best we can.” Bailey turned to the men on his right. “Williams,
see if you can find some wood around here to make a fire.”
“A
fire?” Williams said hesitantly. “Won’t that give us away?”
“I
think those Apaches know we’re here,” Bailey said, his voice dripping with
irony. “Now move!” Williams scampered down the ravine.
“Hoffman,
get over to those horses,” Bailey said, continuing to bark orders. “Check on
them, make sure they’re all right.” Hoffman also scampered down the ravine.
“And bring some coffee and food out of those saddlebags,” Bailey shouted
after him. Bailey turned to Ben and grinned. “I’d just as soon get killed
with a full belly,” Bailey said.
A
hour later, the sky was fully dark. Night had come quickly, as it does in the
desert. The men behind the rocks could see several fires in the distance from
the Apache camp. They had their own small fire blazing behind the rocks. The
Cartwrights and the soldiers had eaten heartily, finishing off some smoked ham
and several cans of peaches. There didn’t seem much point in saving the food
for later. Now, they were huddled around the fire, drinking what they hoped was
not going to be their last cups of coffee.
“Are
we just going to sit here and let those Indians come get us?” Peterson
complained as he sipped his coffee.
“I’m
open to any ideas,” Bailey said evenly.
“I
checked the horses,” said Hoffman. “They’re thirsty but they’re still in
good shape. We could make a run for it in the dark.”
“Oh,
yeah, that’s a good idea,” Bailey replied with disgust. “Riding a horse at
full speed across the desert in the dark. With forty or so Apaches chasing you.
If your horse didn’t fall and kill you, those Apaches would.”
“We
might be able to outrun them,” said Hoffman. “It’s worth a try.”
Ben
glanced over his shoulder to where Joe was resting against the rocks. “I
don’t think my son can sit a horse much less ride one at a full gallop,” Ben
said.
“That’s
his tough luck,” said Hoffman. Both Ben and Hoss looked startled at the
man’s words. They looked at each other in alarm.
“We’re
not leaving anyone behind,” Bailey said firmly. “Besides, we’d never
outrun those Indians.”
“You
said they won’t fight at night,” Hoffman pressed.
“They
don’t like to fight at night,” Bailey corrected the soldier. “That
doesn’t mean they won’t do it.”
“How
about if just one of us goes?” said Williams. “If you gave me cover, I could
ride to the fort for help.”
“You?”
said Carney with a snort. “You’d probably keep right on riding, you little
coward.”
Williams
flushed and said nothing. His lack of response indicated that he was thinking
just what Carney suggested.
“What
if we offer to give them Carney?” Williams suggested in a nasty voice. “I
mean, he’s the one they really want. He’s the one that beat that Indian kid.
Maybe if we give ‘em Carney, they’d let the rest of us go.”
“Now
wait a minute!” Carney said angrily. “It weren’t just me. Hoffman and
Peterson, they held him.”
Hoss
and Ben looked at each other again, their faces showing a growing sense of
alarm. They were trapped with a group of men who seemed to have no honor, no
sense of right and wrong.
“As
much as I’d like to, we can’t give them Carney,” Bailey said. “Besides,
that probably wouldn’t satisfy them.”
“It
was only an Indian,” Carney muttered. Ben, Hoss, and the sergeant looked at
the man with disgust.
“What
we need is a way to sneak out of here,” continued Bailey. He looked around at
the men sitting near the fire. “Any ideas?”
For
a moment, no one said anything. Finally, Carney spoke up. “There’s a trail
leading down into the canyon,” Carney said. “I saw it this afternoon when I
got those bandages.”
“A
trail?” said Ben. “Are you sure?”
Carney
nodded. “I saw it,” he insisted. “Right near the end of the ravine. It
looks pretty steep, like a goat trail or something. But it leads right through
them rocks and down into the canyon.”
“Carney,
why didn’t you say something sooner?” Bailey said in exasperation.
“I
tried, Sarge,” Carney replied with a sneer. “I tried to tell you but you
told me to shut up.”
Bailey
looked at Ben. “If there really is a trail, we might just get out of here,”
he said. “You think your boy could do some walking?”
Ben
looked over to where Joe was resting against the rocks. Joe was sleeping, his
arm still resting in his shirt. Ben turned back to the sergeant.
“We’ll
help him walk,” Ben said. He looked around him at the other men.
“I sure don’t want to stay here,” Ben added.
“Carney,
come with me and show me that trail,” Bailey ordered the soldier. As Bailey
and Carney started to leave the camp, Ben turned to Hoss. “Go with them,” he
said. “Make sure we can get Joe down that trail.” Hoss nodded and quickly
ran after the other two men.
Ben
moved over next to Joe. He laid his hand on Joe’s forehead, feeling for fever.
He was satisfied that Joe’s fever was still very low. Joe stirred as he felt
the touch of a hand.
“What’s
going on?” Joe asked, still groggy from sleep.
Joe
sat up, now wide awake. “A way out?” he said. “How?”
“There
may be a trail down the canyon,” replied Ben. “Hoss and Sergeant Bailey are
checking it out now.” Ben looked straight into his son’s eyes. “Do you
think you can walk?” he asked again.
Joe
grinned. “To get away from those Apaches, I’d run barefoot through the
desert,” Joe said.
“Let’s
hope it doesn’t come to that,” Ben said with an answering grin.
Joe
grew serious. “Pa, I don’t want you and Hoss to get in trouble because of
me,” he said. “If you get a chance to get away, don’t worry about me.”
Ben
patted his son lightly on the arm. “Joe, we’re in this together,” Ben
said. “All of us. We’re not going anywhere without you.”
Ben
heard Hoss and the other men climbing back up the ravine. He patted Joe on the
arm again and quickly moved back to the fire.
“Well?”
he asked anxiously.
Bailey
grinned. “It’s there,” he said. “The prettiest little trail you ever
saw.”
“I
told you so,” muttered Carney.
Ben
looked at Hoss. “Do you think Joe can get down it?” he asked with concern.
Hoss
frowned. “It’s pretty steep, Pa,” answered Hoss. “It’s a tough climb
for a man with two good arms. I don’t think Joe can make it.”
“I’m
not staying here and dying because of him!”
Williams shouted, pointing at Joe. Joe glared back at the man.
“Now
take it easy,” Bailey said in a soothing voice. “Nobody is staying.
There’s a ledge. I figure we can tie a rope around the boy and let him down.
It’ll be kind of tricky in the dark, but it can be done.” Bailey turned to
Ben. “We’ll get him down.” Ben nodded gratefully to the sergeant.
“What
if those Indians follow us?” asked Williams.
“They
won’t know we’re gone until daylight,” said Bailey. “That gives us about
five hours head start. I don’t think the Apaches will be very interested in
trying to catch us. Besides, we’ll have to leave the horses. Apaches love
horses. It will probably satisfy them to take our mounts.”
“How
far is it to the fort?” Ben asked. “I mean, on foot.”
“I
figure about two days walk,” Bailey said.
“Two
days!” exclaimed Ben. He glanced over his shoulder at Joe. “I don’t know
if he can make it.”
“It’ll
be pretty rough on him,” agreed Bailey. “But it’s better than him staying
here and getting his scalp lifted.”
“I’ll
help him, Pa,” Hoss said. “I’ll get him there.”
Ben
nodded at Hoss, but he looked again at Joe with concern.
“Now
here’s what we’re going to do,” Bailey said turning back to the soldiers.
“You men, gather up all the ammunition and your canteens. The only thing
you’re going to carry is your side arm and your water. You’re going to need
both hands to climb down the trail, so don’t carry your rifle. Leave
everything else behind.”
“My
canteen is almost empty,” complained Peterson.
Bailey
looked at the man. “What the heck were you thinking?” he shouted at him.
“I
got thirsty,” Peterson whined.
“We’ve
got an extra canteen,” Hoss said. “It’s only about half full. I gave most
of the water to Joe. The other three we have are almost full. He can have
what’s left in the extra one. It’s down near the bottom of the ravine.”
Bailey
nodded. “Go get it,” the sergeant said to Peterson. “You don’t deserve
it, but go get it.” He watched as Peterson scrambled down the ravine. Bailey
turned to Hoss. “Thanks,” he said. Hoss just shrugged.
Bailey
turned back to the rest of the men. “Now listen up,” he said. “Each of you
is going to carry his own water, and be responsible for it. You drink it all at
once, and you’ll go thirsty. So I suggest you drink only when you have to.
It’s going to take us two days of walking to get to the fort. So ration your
water.” The soldiers around the fire nodded.
“Williams,
build up that fire nice and bright,” Bailey continued. “I want those Apaches
to think we’re still here.” Williams nodded and started adding some sticks
to the fire. “The rest of you, gather your ammunition and water. We’re
leaving in ten minutes.” The
soldiers started scrambling toward various rocks.
Ben
walked over to Joe. “You heard?” he asked his son. Joe nodded. “Don’t
worry,” said Ben as lightly as he could. “We’ll get you to the fort.”
“I’ll
make it, Pa,” Joe said grimly. He sat up and started struggling to his feet.
Ben helped him up. Joe winced as his injured shoulder moved. “I’d better get
my canteen,” Joe said as he tried to smile. The effort was a weak one. The
truth was that Joe’s stomach was clutched with fear as he thought of the
ordeal ahead. He took a deep breath. “I’ll make it,” he said again firmly,
both to reassure himself and his father.
The
men were crouched down, and kept the horses between them and the Apaches as they
crawled through the ravine. The animals watched the men curiously as they moved
through the ravine, but none gave them away.
Hoss
stopped by one horse and reached up to pull
a rope off the saddle. He looked at it closely. The rope was thick and
looped many times. It looked long enough and strong enough for the job he had in
mind. Hoss moved quickly to catch up with the other men.
A
full-moon shone down on the land below. It was bright enough to give the men in
the ravine enough light to see by. They only hoped it didn’t give the Apaches
enough light to see them.
The
men were crouched at the end of the ravine. Each could see the opening in the
rocks that revealed the trail. But each of them could also see the yards of open
ground between the ravine and the trail, lit by the bright moon overhead. They
waited nervously.
Bailey
led one horse to the end of the ravine. He held the horse steady, hoping to
block the view of any Apaches. Then he turned and nodded to Carney.
Carney
scrambled up the side of the ravine. Crouching low, he ran across the open
ground and to the rocks near the top of the canyon. He stopped briefly at the
rocks, then disappeared.
Bailey
nodded again and Williams followed Carney. As Williams disappeared behind the
rocks, Hoffman ran across the ground. Then Peterson followed. Hoss followed
Peterson.
Ben
and Joe were crouched in the ravine, waiting for Bailey’s signal. Bailey
nodded, and Joe started forward. He made it up the side of the ravine, and
started forward. He crouched as he walked, and his gait was slow and measured.
Ben watched his son carefully, ready to help him if he faltered. But Joe made it
to the rocks. Ben breathed a sigh of relief.
Ben
glanced up at Bailey, then climbed up the ravine. He quickly crossed the open
ground and disappeared behind the rocks.
Hoss
and Joe were waiting for him behind the rocks. Hoss was already looping the rope
around Joe. Ben glanced down. He saw the soldiers climbing slowly down a steep,
rocky trail. The men needed both hands to steady themselves as they climbed.
Hoss was right, Ben thought. Joe could never make that climb.
Bailey
came up behind Ben. “Looks like we made it,” the sergeant said with a
triumphant smile.
Ben
nodded. “Where the ledge?” he asked. Bailey pointed to his right.
A
spit of rock jutted out from the lip of the canyon. The ledge was narrow but
wide enough for a man to stand on it. It was about twenty feet above the rocky
ground.
Joe
licked his lips nervously as he saw the ledge. He turned to Ben. “Pa, I think
I can make it down the trail,” he said quickly.
Ben
looked at the trail again, then shook his head. “Joe, you’ll never make
it,” he said. “You’ll fall and break your neck.”
Joe
glanced at the ledge again and swallowed hard. “Maybe if you held the rope as
while I climbed…” Joe started to say.
Ben
quickly shook his head. “Joe, it would never work,” Ben explained.
“There’s too many twists in the trail, too many rocks.”
Joe
looked at the ledge once more. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a
moment.
Ben
knew Joe had a fear of heights, and the ledge was high off the ground. But there
was no other way to get him down.
“Joe,
you can do this,” Ben said firmly. “The rope is strong. And I’m going to
waiting for you at the bottom.”
“Don’t
worry, little brother,” Hoss said reassuringly. “I won’t let you fall.”
“You’d
better not,” muttered Joe. He glanced worriedly at the ledge again. “All
right,” Joe said. “Let’s get this over with.”
Ben
quickly started to climb down the trail, wanting to keep his promise of waiting
for Joe at the bottom. His attention was glued to the trail as he climbed. The
dirt was loose, and Ben needed to hold firm to the rocks as he let himself down.
It took him several minutes to reach the bottom.
As
soon as he reached the flat ground, Ben looked up to the ledge. He could see
three figures in the dark standing on the ledge. Ben moved quickly to stand
underneath it.
Ben
held his breath as he watched one figure grab the rope with his only visible
arm. The two other figures seemed to be bracing themselves. Then the first
figure crouched and eased himself off the ledge.
It
took only a few minutes for Hoss and Bailey to lower Joe to the ground, but to
Ben, it seemed an eternity. He could imagine the terror Joe must be feeling. He
watched with his heart in his throat as his son dangled in the air over the
rocky ground. Slowly, Joe was lowered closer and closer to bottom. Ben rushed
forward.
Joe
was about four feet over Ben’s head when Ben reached the ground under the
ledge. He could hear Joe’s rapid and ragged breathing. Ben reached up, ready
to grab his son as soon as he was close enough. In only a minute, Joe’s legs
were in reach. Ben waited until he could reach Joe’s waist. Then he grabbed
his son tightly and lowered him to the ground. A
few seconds later, the rope went slack.
Joe
turned and buried his face in his father’s shoulder. Ben could feel him
trembling, and he could hear his son’s loud gasps for air. Ben held him tight.
“It’s all right,” Ben murmured as he held Joe. “You’re safe now.”
Ben
held Joe until his son got himself under control. Joe slowly raised his head.
Ben could see Joe’s face was covered with sweat. Joe swallowed hard and stared
almost blankly into Ben’s eyes. Ben smiled and nodded encouragingly at his
son. Joe blinked several times and swallowed hard again.
Ben
heard rather than saw Hoss and Bailey come up to him. Ben kept his eyes firmly
on Joe, making sure his son was all right. Joe finally nodded and stepped back
from his father.
“Joe,
are you all right?” Hoss asked his brother with concern. Even in the dark, he
could tell Joe was pale and shaken.
Joe
nodded. “Yeah, I’m all right,” he answered in a shaky voice.
“That
must have been some trip,” Bailey commented with a grin.
“I
don’t know,” Joe answered. “I had my eyes closed the whole way.”
Ben,
Hoss, and Bailey laughed as Joe gave them shaky grin.
Bailey
looked around. He saw the four soldiers sitting on the ground about ten yards
away. None of them had made a move to help Ben or Joe.
Bailey
sighed. “We’d better get moving,” he said. “The farther we get away from
here, the safer we’ll be.” He looked at Joe. “Son, I’d be proud to have
you in my unit anytime,” Bailey said. “You’re twice the man any of those
soldiers claim to be.”
“Thanks,”
Joe said. “But let’s think of another way for me to prove it.”
Bailey
grinned, and walked forward to join his men.
***************
The
hot sun shone down on the men who were walking slowly across the barren land.
Bailey led the way, walking steadily through the sand. Carney, Williams, Hoffman
and Peterson followed him in a ragged line. Ben came next, with Joe leaning
heavily on him as Ben helped his son walk. Hoss brought up the rear.
The
men had started hiking at a brisk pace during the night. The relief and
adrenaline they felt at their escape had buoyed all of them. They had started
walking out of the canyon and toward the fort with enthusiasm. But as the hours
passed, their enthusiasm quickly flagged. All began to tire, and Joe tired
quicker than the rest.
After
three hours of walking through the night, Bailey had called a halt and ordered a
twenty minute rest. Joe had made it on his own for the first part of the trek.
But he had struggled to get to his feet when Bailey ordered the men to start
walking again. Hoss quickly helped his brother to his feet, and put his strong
arm around Joe’s waist. Joe leaned gratefully against his brother as he began
to walk. Hoss gently pushed Joe forward and kept his arm around him to support
him.
Bailey
had noted Joe’s difficulty without comment. But he slowed the pace
considerably. The other soldiers either didn’t see or ignored Joe.
The
second rest break came after only two hours. The sun was beginning to rise as
Bailey called a halt again. By now, Joe was leaning heavily on Hoss, his pace
slower. Ben had watched his sons with concern, but Hoss waved him away when he
tried to help.
The
second break had lasted almost half an hour. Joe had fallen asleep almost as
soon as he had laid down on the ground. Ben had felt Joe’s forehead and was
alarmed that his son’s fever seemed to be higher. Joe’s breathing was fast
and heavy, also. Ben desperately wished he could do something to help his son.
But there was little he could do.
The
soldiers had grumbled and complained when Bailey ordered them to start walking
again. Ben had ignored them as he gently woke Joe. Joe barely opened his eyes.
Both Ben and Hoss had to help him to his feet. This time, Ben slipped Joe’s
arm around his shoulders. Joe leaned against his father heavily. But he began
walking.
Now
the sun was high in the sky, and the heat was building rapidly. Joe’s pace was
becoming slower with each step. Ben kept urging his son forward, but it was
becoming harder and harder for Joe to walk. Ben pulled Joe’s hat down firmly
on his son’s head, trying to give him some protection from the sun. But there
was no way to protect him from the heat.
Bailey
looked back at the men behind him. He could see Ben and Joe were falling farther
and farther behind. Bailey looked around him and studied the land. Ahead, a
cluster of tall rocks, looking almost like monuments, stood out against the
cloudless sky. Bailey could see a small alcove in the rocks, bathed in shadows.
He headed for the shadows.
Bailey
called a halt as he reached the shade. The soldiers behind him walked quickly
toward the relative cool of the shadows. Ben, Joe and Hoss joined them a minute
later.
Ben
eased Joe to the ground. Joe was covered with sweat, and his eyes were almost
closed. Ben quickly pulled one of the canteens off his shoulder and pulled the
top off the container. He lifted Joe’s head and put the canteen to Joe’s
lips. Joe drank deeply, as he had during the previous two breaks. The canteen
was emptying fast.
Ben
put the canteen aside and eased Joe’s head back down to the ground.
The
wound in Joe’s shoulder was inflamed and swollen. Ben winced as he studied the
wound.
“We’re
going to have to open that up again, let it drain,” Bailey said as he stood
over Ben and Joe.
Ben
nodded, hating the thought of causing more pain to his son.
“Want
me to do it?” Bailey asked.
Ben
took a deep breath. “No,” he said. “I’ll do it.”
Bailey
handed Ben the knife. Hoss came over and knelt next to Joe. He looked at his
brother’s shoulder, then quickly at the knife in Ben’s hand.
“Pa,”
he said with a frown. “I don’t know how much more he can take.”
“I
know,” Ben said. “But we have no choice. Hold him, Hoss.”
Hoss
nodded and put his large hands on Joe’s chest and shoulder. Ben doused the
knife with water from the canteen. He wished they had the whiskey bottle. Not
only would that clean the knife better, but Ben hated to waste the water.
Ben
pulled Joe’ shirt open and pulled the bandage back. With a swift cut, he
opened the swollen wound.
Joe
screamed in pain as the knife cut into him, then went limp.
Ben
made another quick cut, and the wound started oozing pus and blood. Joe laid
unmoving on the dirt.
Ben
poured some more of the precious water on the wound, hoping to clean it out a
bit more. Then he pulled the bandage back over the wound.
“Good
job,” Bailey said, nodding with approval. He stood and looked around.
“We’ll spend a couple of hours here,” Bailey said. “No sense traveling
in the heat of the day. And your son can use the rest.” Ben nodded gratefully.
Bailey
suddenly turned and walked over to the soldiers sitting on the ground. Peterson
was about to pour water from his canteen over his head when Bailey snatched it
out of his hand. “Peterson, are you crazy or just plain stupid?” the
sergeant asked angrily.
“I’m
hot,” complained Peterson.
“Well,
you’re going to be worse off if you keep wasting water like that,” Bailey
said. He shook the canteen and frowned. “How much have you had to drink?” he
asked.
Peterson
shrugged. “I don’t know,” the soldier replied sullenly. “When I get
thirsty, I drink.”
“You
keep this up, and you’ll be out of water by nightfall,” Bailey warned.
“And we have another day before we get to the fort.”
“Aw,
sarge, you worry too much,” Peterson said.
Bailey
turned to the rest of the men sprawled on the ground. “Listen to me, all of
you,” he said. “We have a lot of ground to cross and there’s no water
between here and the fort. You have to save your water. If you use it up,
you’re going to die out here.” The men glared back at Bailey. No one said
anything.
Ben
and Hoss watched the scene with concern. They had both drank from the canteens
sparingly, giving Joe more than his share of their water. Only the one contents
of one canteen was dwindling. Between them, they had
two other, almost full canteens. Ben wondered what would happen when one
of the soldiers ran out of water. He had no doubt that the soldiers would kill
to get more water if they had to. Ben looked at Hoss, his face betraying his
worry and fear.
Bailey
walked away from the men and sat by Ben and Hoss. “When we get back to the
fort, I swear I’m going to have them all thrown out of the troop,” Bailey
muttered as he eased himself onto the ground. He looked over at Joe. “He’s
having a pretty rough time,” Bailey commented.
Ben
looked at his son. Joe was still laying unmoving on the ground, exhausted by the
pain and the walking. “I don’t know how much longer he can walk,” Ben
admitted. He turned back to Bailey. “How much farther to the fort?” he
asked.
Bailey
hesitated before he answered. “We’re not even halfway there yet,” he said
finally. He looked at Ben. “Maybe we should have stayed in that ravine.”
Ben
shook his head. “No, if we had stayed, we’d all be dead by now,” said Ben.
“I
wish we could have found another way,” Bailey said apologetically. “I’m
sorry.”
“There
was no other way,” replied Ben. He looked at Joe again and took a deep breath.
“There was no other way,” Ben said again softly.
****************
Four
hours later, Bailey ordered his men to their feet. The
shade in which they had been resting was rapidly disappearing as the sun
rose high into the sky. The heat was coming in waves across the desert. Bailey
knew there was no sense staying by the rocks any longer. They would be just as
hot staying where they were as they would be if they were walking. And staying
wouldn’t get them any closer to the fort.
Joe
had drifted in and out of consciousness during the past four hours. When he was
awake, he felt a throbbing pain in his shoulder. Joe had tried not to fade back
into a dreamless sleep. But the pain, the heat and his exhaustion made it
difficult for him to stay awake. He was vaguely aware of someone giving him
water almost every time he woke up. He hadn’t heard Hoss throwing aside a now
empty canteen. He only knew that trying to stay awake took more energy than it
was worth. He finally stopped fighting and let himself slip back into that dark
world where he couldn’t feel the pain and heat.
Now
he felt someone gently shaking him awake once more.
“Joe,
“ Ben said with concern. “We have to get moving. Do you think you can
walk?”
Joe
looked up at his father through half opened eyes. He wanted to get up; in fact,
he knew he had to get up. But he felt so tired. The thought of getting to his
feet seemed a task more daunting than climbing a mountain.
“Joe,”
Ben said again, his voice more urgent. “Joe, we have to get moving.”
Joe
nodded and somehow managed to sit up. It seemed to take all his energy to
accomplish that alone. His shoulders slumped forward.
Ben
grabbed Joe’s uninjured arm and started pulling his son to his feet. Hoss
grabbed Joe around the waist and pulled up. Between the two of them, Ben and
Hoss managed to get Joe to his feet.
Bailey
had watched the Cartwrights with growing concern. Now he walked slowly to the
trio. “Can he walk?” Bailey asked.
Ben
slipped Joe’s arm over his shoulders. “He can walk,” answered Ben. “I
don’t know how far, but he can walk.”
Joe
looked up at the sergeant with dull eyes. “I can make it,” he said in a weak
voice.
Bailey
studied the men in front of him, then nodded. He turned abruptly and walked
away.
Hoss
picked the two remaining canteens up off the ground and slipped the straps over
his shoulder. Then he put his arm around Joe’s waist. Joe winced slightly as
Hoss’ massive shoulder bumped his arm.
Ben
and Hoss started walking slowly, dragging Joe between them. Joe shuffled his
feet; he was being pulled more than actually walking. His head lolled to one
side, and his legs were rubbery. Joe held on to his father as tightly as he
could.
Bailey
and the four soldiers were walking across the desert ahead of Ben and Hoss.
Their pace was slow, but even still, the Cartwrights quickly lagged behind. Ben
knew they had a long way to go to get to the fort. He wondered if they could get
there.
Somehow,
Ben and Hoss managed to drag Joe across the barren ground for another two hours.
All three were becoming exhausted. The soldiers ahead of them kept walking. None
of them turned to help.
The
ragged band was approaching another cluster of rocks.. Ben saw the rocks and
began searching them with his eyes, looking for a shady spot. He was looking
ahead so intensely that he didn’t notice Joe was falling until he felt his
son’s arm pulled away from him.
“Bailey!”
Ben shouted in alarm. Joe had fallen away from Ben, and only Hoss’ desperate
snatch has prevent Joe from crashing to the ground. Hoss laid his brother gently
on the ground.
“Bailey!”
Ben shouted again. He knelt next to Joe and gently slapped his son on the cheek,
trying to rouse him.
Ben
looked up as a shadow crossed Joe’s face. Bailey stood over them, his face
full of concern. The other soldiers stood a few feet away, watching impassively.
Bailey
knelt on the ground next to Ben. He watched as Hoss handed his father a canteen,
and Ben poured a small trickle of water on Joe’s face. Joe didn’t react.
“He’s
had it,” said Carney as he watched Ben unsuccessfully trying to wake Joe.
“Let’s leave him and get moving.”
“Shut
up, Carney,” barked Bailey.
“He’s
slowing us down,” complained Hoffman. “We’d be better offer without
him.”
Bailey
glared at Hoffman until the soldier looked away uncomfortably.
“Carney’s
right,” Bailey said reluctantly as he turned back to Ben. “He’s not going
to make it any further.”
Ben
looked up at the sergeant and then around him, as if seeking some unexpected
help. Then he looked down at Joe. “I’ll stay with him,” Ben said.
“No!”
Hoss protested. “You can’t stay here. Joe can’t stay here.”
Ben
looked at Hoss. “He can’t go any further, Hoss,” Ben said softly.
“I’ll
carry him,” Hoss said in a firm voice.
Ben
looked at Bailey. “How far is it to the fort?” Ben asked.
“If
we travel all night, we should get there by noon tomorrow,” Bailey said.
Ben
looked at Hoss. “There’s no way you can carry him for that long,” Ben
said. “You’d kill him and yourself.” Hoss started to protest again, but
said nothing as he realized Ben was right. His face showed his worry and
concern.
Ben
looked over to the rocks on his right. “Help me carry him over there,” Ben
said to Bailey and Hoss. “We’ll find someplace to hole up until you can get
back with some help.”
Ben,
Hoss and Bailey carried Joe to the outcropping of rocks. Once more, the other
soldiers stood watching, making no effort to help. Ben saw a small patch of
ground among the rocks, a ring of clear earth about ten feet in diameter. Ben
nodded toward the clear ground, and the trio moved Joe into the rocks.
As
they laid Joe on the ground, Ben knelt beside his son. Joe was sweating
profusely, and his breathing was rapid. Ben tried to make Joe comfortable, but
there was little he could do.
“Pa,
I’m staying with you,” Hoss declared.
Ben
looked up at Hoss. “No,” he said firmly. “You’re going on to the
fort.”
Hoss
shook his head. “I’m not leaving you and Joe out here alone,” he said.
“In this heat, with Apaches all around, you got about as much chance as a
mouse at a cat convention.”
Ben
shook his head again. “You’re staying here isn’t going to help,” he
said. “I need to you to get to the fort, to get some help back here.”
“Bailey
can bring back the help,” Hoss said.
“And
what if something happens to him?” Ben said. “Do you think one of those
soldiers would bother to bring help? Or could find their way back here, even if
they wanted to?”
Hoss
hesitated, torn between the logic of what Ben said and his strong desire to
stay.
“Your
Pa’s right,” said Bailey softly. “There’s a lot of ground between here
and the fort. No telling what can happen. There’s a better chance of help
getting back here if we both go.”
Hoss
knelt on the ground next to Joe. He stroked his brother’s head gently.
“Joe,”
he said softly. “I’m going to get you some help. You hang on, you hear.
I’m coming back for you. I promise I’m going to bring help back fast. You do
what I say, and hang on.” Ben
nodded as he listened to Hoss.
Hoss
stood and put his hand on Ben’s shoulder. He started to stay something, but
seemed at a loss for words. He squeezed Ben’s shoulder.
Ben
reached up and patted Hoss on the arm.
Hoss
slipped one of the canteens off his shoulder and handed it to Ben. He started to
hand the second one to his father also, but Ben stopped him. “You’ll need
that,” Ben said. “You’ve got to get to the fort and bring back some help.
We’re counting on you, son.”
Hoss
nodded and pulled the canteen strap up over his shoulder. He gave one last
glance back at his unconscious brother on the ground. Then he turned.
“C’mon,” he said to Bailey. “We got a lot of ground to cover.”
Bailey
nodded. The two big men walked out of the rocks.
Ben
turned his attention to his youngest son. He knew the heat and sun were as much
a danger to Joe as the wound in his shoulder. Ben saw a small bit of a shadow
near one of the rocks. He looked up at the sun, trying to calculate it’s path.
He looked back at the shadow once more. It wasn’t much now, but Ben thought it
would grow as the sun descended.
At
least, he hoped so.
Ben
slipped the strap of the canteen over his shoulder. Then he slipped his arms
under Joe’s shoulder. Thankful that his son was feeling nothing, Ben dragged
Joe a foot or so across the ground toward the shadow. Ben sat on the ground,
resting his back against the rocks. He pulled Joe up and toward him, letting
Joe’s head rest on his right shoulder. Ben slipped his arm behind Joe’s back
and pulled his son closer. Ben closed his eyes for a moment and sent a heartfelt
plea for help to heaven. He opened his eyes and looked at Joe. With his left
hand, he gentle pushed a lock of hair back off Joe’s forehead, a gesture he
had done many times. Ben wondered briefly if he would have to chance to do this
again. With a quick shake of his head, Ben dismissed the thought. He’d get Joe
through this, he vowed.
Ben
glanced up at the sun in the cloudless sky once more. Then he settled back
against the rocks to wait.
**************
Almost
two hours passed before Joe began to stir. The shadows from the rocks had
lengthened as the sun moved in the sky. Ben had periodically wiped Joe’s face
with a damp cloth, and had managed to force a bit of water into his son. Now,
for the first time in hours, as Ben wiped Joe’s face, his son began to wake.
Joe
moaned softly as Ben wiped his face. Ben quickly brought the canteen to Joe’s
lips, and trickled a bit of water into his son’s mouth. Joe swallowed eagerly,
then moaned again. Ben saw Joe wince as he tried to shift his body. Joe’s head
moved slowly, and then his eyes opened.
For
a moment, Joe’s eyes had a glazed
look. Then he seemed to focus. He glanced at the rocks around him, then looked
up into his father’s face.
“Welcome
back,” Ben said quietly.
Joe
nodded. His eyes searched the land around him again. Once more, he looked up at
Ben. “Where are we?” he said in a weak voice. “Where’s Hoss?”
Ben
ignored the first question; he had no real answer to it. “Hoss went on to the
fort to get some help,” Ben explained. “He’ll be back soon,” he
continued optimistically.
Joe
nodded, then licked his lips. Ben quickly brought the canteen to Joe’s mouth
and let his son drink. When Ben pulled the canteen away, Joe nodded his thanks.
He closed his eyes as he winced at the pain in his shoulder.
After
a minute, Joe’s eyes fluttered open again. “Guess I didn’t make it,” Joe
said in a sad voice.
“You
did fine,” Ben reassured him. “You made it farther than any of us thought
you would.”
“Yeah,
but not to the fort,” replied Joe. He looked up at Ben. “And you’re stuck
here with me.”
Ben
gave him a small grin. “I’ll tell you a secret, Joe,” said Ben. “I was
getting pretty tired myself. I’d just as soon stay here with you than hike
through that hot sand.”
Joe
knew his father wasn’t being entirely truthful, but he didn’t argue. He
looked out at the barren land, dotted with rocks. “Sure wish we had taken that
stage,” Joe said wistfully.
“Next
time, I promise you, we will,” answered Ben.
“If
there is a next time,” said Joe.
“There
will be,” Ben said quickly, hoping it was true. “Hoss will be back soon with
some help, and you’ll be home chasing those pretty girls before you know
it.”
Joe
didn’t say anything for a minute. He seemed to be lost in thought. “It would
have been nice if I had found someone special,” said Joe softly.
“You’ll
get your chance,” Ben said. “I promise you, Joe, you’ll have plenty of
time to search for someone.”
“Maybe,”
Joe said, his voice fading. His eyes began to close. In a moment, he was asleep
again.
“You’ll
get your chance,” Ben repeated softly. “I promise you, Joe, you’ll get
your chance.”
**********
The
hot desert wind had turned into a cool evening breeze as the sun disappeared
behind the mountains. Two figures sat next to a small fire in the rocks, one
trying to keep warm, and one in an uncaring sleep. Ben had left Joe only long
enough to gather some sticks and straw for the fire. He had kept the fire small
partly to avoid attracting attention from any passing Apaches but mostly because
he didn’t want to leave Joe alone any longer than necessary while searching
for fuel.
Joe
had awaken for brief periods during the afternoon, but he seemed to be conscious
only long enough to drink some water and ask where he was in a confused voice.
It worried Ben that he had repeatedly answered Joe’s question, but Joe never
seemed to understand him.