The Cartwright Name
"Fire!" shouted the rider as he galloped his horse into the yard. Joe Cartwright immediately dropped the ax he was using to chop wood and ran toward the rider. "Fire!" shouted the rider again as he pulled his horse to a skidding halt in the middle of the yard. Ben Cartwright ran out of the barn, his face furrowed with concern.
"Where's the fire?" asked Ben, running toward the rider.
"The south slope of Big Horn Mountain," gasped the rider. "Adam sent me to get help. He says he needs men, blankets, shovels, everything. The whole south slope is on fire."
"How did the fire start?" asked Joe.
The rider shook his head. "Don't know," he answered. "We were working on the north slope, and all of a sudden smelled the smoke. Some of us ran to the top of the ridge to take a look. It looks like the whole mountain is on fire."
The furrows of worry deepened on Ben's face as he turned to his youngest son. "Joe, you ride down to the south pasture. Tell Hoss to forget the branding. Get as many men as you can and meet us up on the north slope of Big Horn Mountain."
Giving a quick nod, Joe started running toward the barn. "I'll swing by where Charlie and his men are working on digging that new well," Joe yelled over his shoulder as he ran. "I can pick up a few more men there."
"Good idea!" Ben called after his son. He turned back to the rider. "You get back and help Adam. Tell him we'll be there with the men and equipment he needs as soon as we can."
**************
The smoke was rolling down the mountain in thick clouds as Joe and Hoss rode up Big Horn Mountain with the ten men they had rounded up to help them. All urged their reluctant horses up the slope toward a knot of tents perched near the top of the mountain. Joe could see a wagon parked near the edge of the tents.
Stopping their horses a few feet from the camp, the riders dismounted and hurried over to the large wagon. Shovels, blankets, and empty sacks were piled in the back, ready for the anxious men to use. As the men began picking out pieces of equipment, Ben emerged from the tent nearest the wagon.
"Joe, Hoss, I'm glad you got here so fast," said Ben with relief.
"How bad is it, Pa?" asked Hoss as he walked rapidly toward his father.
"Bad," answered Ben grimly. "Jim wasn't kidding when he said the whole south slope is on fire. Adam's got a crew at the top of the ridge working on a firebreak. Hoss, I want you to take about half of these men and work your way to the west side. Joe, you take the rest and go toward the east. I want both crews to start digging firebreaks. There's no way to put this fire out, but maybe we can contain it."
Indicating their understanding with a quick nod, Hoss and Joe turned to the men who were already filling their arms with shovels and blankets. Hoss called out five names and told the men to follow him.
"The wind's blowing north," Joe observed, lifting his face toward the sky. "That means the fire will be going up the slope."
"If we can contain it, the fire should burn itself out," said Ben anxiously. "If not…" He didn't need to finish; Joe knew the whole mountain could burn if they failed.
"C'mon," yelled Joe as he rushed to the wagon to grab a shovel and a sack. "We've got the east side. Let's go!" Five men hurried after Joe as he started climbing the hill rapidly.
When Joe got to the crest of the ridge, he stopped to look at the inferno below. He had felt the heat from the blaze and smelled the smoke. Now Joe also could see the wide river of flames burning its way up the mountain. Joe turned to the men behind him. "Let's get to work," he ordered grimly. He started down the far side of the ridge, with the five men following him closely.
As Joe led the men closer to the fire, thick billows of smoke engulfed them. The heat made the air feel as hot as an oven. Joe stopped and pulled off a blue bandanna that was looped around the belt of his pants. He had grabbed the cloth from the barn when he saddled his horse. Now, with the smoke getting thicker, Joe was glad he had. He wrapped the bandanna around the lower half of his face and looked at the men around him. All were doing the same. With a nod, Joe pointed to the ground, and the men started digging.
Half an hour later, Joe stopped digging and looked around. A long trench now scarred the ground around him. The men in front and in back of him were digging frantically, trying desperately to hold the fire by denying it fuel. Joe looked toward the blaze. He could see the flames were getting closer. He figured they had about another twenty minutes before the fire reached their side of the mountain.
With a determined looked on his face, Joe pushed the shovel into the ground with his foot and lifted a load of dirt. He dug into the hard earth with fast strokes, ignoring the ache that was beginning to grow in his arms and back. His face and shirt were streaked from the black ash in the smoke that surrounded him. He could hear the crackle of the flames as the fire got closer. Joe tried to ignore the heat, smoke and noise as he concentrated on digging.
Finally, Joe could no longer ignore the roar of the fire. He looked up to see the flames were only about ten feet away. The heat was intense, and the smoke so thick that Joe could barely see. Trees were burning like candles as the flames traveled up the trunk and limbs. Joe looked at the long trench on the hillside. He hoped the firebreak would hold the back the flames.
"That'll have to do!" shouted Joe into the thick smoke. "Let's get out of here!" He waited nervously until he saw five dark figures emerging from the smoke. Joe turned to lead the men away. Suddenly there was a loud crack. The top of a tall pine, ablaze with fire, came falling out of the sky, and the fiery projectile was coming right at Joe.
Seeing the ball of fire hurtling toward him, Joe shouted a warning to the other men, and then began to run, seeking the safety of some rocks a few yards away. His feet slipped on the pine needles scattered on the ground, and Joe fell to the earth. He scrambled to his feet just as flaming tree hit the ground.
Joe felt the scrape of a branch against his arm, followed by a searing, burning pain on his forearm. Joe looked down to see the sleeve of his shirt was on fire.
Dropping to the ground, Joe began to roll, beating the flames against the hard earth. He quickly smothered the fire, then laid on the ground, clutching his arm.
"Joe, are you all right?" a muffled voice asked with concern. Joe looked up and saw a figure standing over him. In the dark smoke, and with the bandanna covering his face, Joe couldn't be sure which of the men was standing over him.
Wincing from the sting of the burn on his arm, Joe pulled himself to his feet. "Yeah," Joe answered dispassionately. "Just a little singed." He looked around and saw four other figures standing a few feet away. "Let's get out of here," shouted Joe, grateful that the others had escaped the fiery tree limb. Once more, he started up the hill and away from the fire. He could hear the sounds of footsteps following him.
Leading the men back to the camp, Joe walked wearily toward the small collection of tents. He could see his father and two brothers standing in front of one of the canvas structures; all were streaked with soot. Joe pulled the bandanna down from his face and walked slowly toward the other Cartwrights.
"What's it look like?" asked Joe in a tired voice as he approached the three men. Ben looked up, and Joe could see the lines of worry through the dark smudges on his father's face.
"We'll know soon if the firebreaks will work," replied Ben wearily. He frowned as he saw the blackened and burned cloth of Joe's sleeve. "Joe, what happened?" he asked. "Are you all right?"
Joe turned his arm and smiled weakly. "Got a little too close to the fire," he explained. He winced as he felt the heat of the burn. "It's not too bad," Joe added.
"There's a barrel of water near the far tent," advised Ben. "Go clean that burn before it gets infected." Nodding, Joe started to walk toward the end of the line of tents, but he stopped when he heard a shout.
"Mr. Cartwright!" a voice called from up the hill. "Mr. Cartwright, you'd better get up here."
Forgetting about the water barrel, Joe turn and started climbing the hill, rushing after his father and brothers. The figure in front of them gestured with his arm and started toward the crest. The Cartwrights hurried after the man.
"What's wrong?" asked Ben as he reached the crest.
"Look!" said the man, pointing to the fire below.
The fire was continuing to burn, but now the blaze was taking on a strange shape. Instead of the scattered flames, the fire was beginning to resemble a blazing inverted horseshoe. The edges of the fire seemed to have stopped abruptly.
"It's working!" shouted Adam with glee. "The firebreaks are working!"
"Look at that!" Ben exclaimed, clapping Hoss on the back. "The fire is starting to turn on itself!" Hoss and Joe looked at each other, and both grinned foolishly.
After watching the fire for another minute, Ben turned to his sons. "Get your crews and get down there," he ordered. "Make sure the fire doesn't jump the firebreaks. Keep it contained. Boys, we've got a chance at winning this one."
Adam, Hoss, and Joe needed no further urging. The three rushed down the far side of the ridge, shouting for their men as they ran. Joe briefly rubbed his sore arm, but decided the burn wasn't too painful. He would take care of it later. The important thing now was to insure the fire didn't get out of control again.
With his reinvigorated crew, Joe spent the rest of the day beating out small licks of flames which managed to jump the firebreak. As he repeatedly banged a sack against the ground, Joe felt some shooting pains in his right forearm. He stopped a few times and cradled his arm against his chest, hoping to ease the tightness and burning he felt. Once he considered going back to camp and putting something on the burn, but just then a bush had started to smolder. Joe forgot about his arm and rushed to put out the fire.
It was dusk when Joe finally decided the fire was no longer a threat. He sat on the ground, resting for the first time in hours. His arms and back were sore, and he coughed up the residue of smoke in his lungs. Joe felt tired, but triumphant. They had fought the fire, and this time at least, the fire had lost.
Two of the men flopped to the ground next to Joe. He glanced at them, then looked around. The rest of the men were sprawled around the hillside. Joe smiled wearily at them. "Good job," he told the men. "I'm sure Pa will have a bonus for you."
"Right now, all I want is a bath and a bed," declared the man on the ground next to Joe. "And the bath can wait."
Joe grinned. "I know what you mean," he agreed. "I think I could sleep for a week." Joe rubbed his arm, wincing slightly at the pain.
"Joe, is your arm all right?" asked another of the men.
"Yeah," answered Joe. "It just a little sore. I'll get Hop Sing to put something on it when we get back to the ranch."
"Back to ranch," said one of the men wistfully. "Do you think I could talk one of you into carrying me?"
Laughing, the men slowly got to their feet. As he led his crew back to the camp, Joe took one last look over his shoulder. He could see the smoke and the blackened trees behind him. The ground around the trees was dark and bare. Joe shook his head. It would be a long time until this part of Big Horn Mountain produced timber again.
***************
The sun shining through the window woke Joe the next morning. For a minute, he was confused by the sun; a sun that bright and high in the sky meant it was mid-morning. Joe shook his head, wondering why his father let him sleep so late. He stretched and took a deep breath…and immediately smelled the faint aroma of smoke. The memory of yesterday's fire came rushing back.
Joe remembered the ride back to the ranch vaguely; he had been so tired that he had dozed in the saddle. Luckily, Cochise, his horse, needed little guidance in order to find its way back to the barn. Once home, Joe had wearily eaten the food placed before him, but had been almost too tired to chew. Adam had picked at his food and even Hoss had only one helping. That's when Ben had promised his boys they could sleep in today, Joe remembered with a smile.
Throwing back the covers, Joe rolled out of the bed. He pulled the nightshirt over his head and threw it in a heap on the bed. As he did, he felt a tinge from his right forearm. Joe looked at the burn on his arm, then shrugged. He had forgotten to ask Hop Sing to put a dressing on the burn
last night. He had simply washed off the soot and dirt, and then fallen into an exhausted sleep. Joe studied the red mark on his arm. It didn't look any worse than a bad sunburn, and if it hadn’t bothered him enough to remind him to ask Hop Sing about it, it couldn't be too bad.
After quickly washing and shaving, Joe went to the dresser to pull out some clean clothes. The clothes he had worn yesterday still lay in a pile in the middle of the floor; he could still smell the odor of smoke coming from them. Joe pulled a dark blue shirt and another pair of his favorite gray pants out of the dresser drawer. As he dressed, Joe realized he was hungry. He hurried to finish so he could go get some breakfast.
Bounding down the stairs, Joe was surprised to see Ben, Adam and Hoss sitting at the table. As he slid into his chair at the table, Joe could see his father and brothers' plates showed the remnants of bacon and eggs. "Sorry I'm so late," Joe apologized as he reached for the coffee.
"That's all right, Joe," answered Ben with a distracted air. "We haven't been down that long ourselves."
Joe looked at the empty platters on the table then turned in his chair. "Hop Sing," called Joe. "I'm hungry and there's nothing left."
Almost immediately, the Cartwrights’ Chinese cook came out of the kitchen carrying a plate filled with bacon and eggs. He put the plate in front of Joe. "Breakfast all ready," said Hop Sing with a smug air. Giving a quick nod of satisfaction, the cook turned and walked back into the kitchen.
"How does he do that?" asked Joe in a puzzled voice as he began to eat. When no one answered, Joe looked up. For the first time, he noticed the grim expressions on the faces around him. "What's wrong?" asked Joe.
"We've been talking about the effects of the fire," answered Adam.
"Yeah, it's bad," Joe agreed as he ate. "There's no way that south slope is going to give us much timber for a while."
"That's the problem," said Ben bleakly. "I was counting on the timber from the south slope to fill out the contract we have with the railroad. Without it, we can't meet the terms of the contract."
"Can't we supply the timber from someplace else?" asked Joe.
Adam shook his head. "No," the oldest Cartwright brother replied. "All the rest of the available timber is already committed."
"I knew we were stretching things," continued Ben with a shake of his head. "I should have never gone after that railroad contract. I got greedy and now it’s come back to haunt us."
"Aw, Pa," said Hoss. "You didn't know there was going to be a fire. That timber on the south slope was just sitting there, ready to be cut. There wasn't any reason not to sell it to the railroad."
"So, what happens if we don't deliver the timber?" asked Joe.
"We pay a penalty for every board foot we're short," answered Adam. "Right now, I figure the penalty is going to cost us $50,000."
"$50,000!" exclaimed Joe in an astonished voice. "Adam, you negotiated that contract. How could you let them put in a penalty clause that would cost us that much?"
"Because I didn't figure on a fire on Big Horn Mountain," replied Adam angrily.
"It's not Adam's fault," Ben interrupted. "I approved the contract and signed it. It seemed all right at the time. I just didn't allow for something like this."
"Pa, couldn't we divert the timber from one those other jobs to the railroad?" asked Hoss.
"We could," acknowledged Ben. "But then we'd just end up paying penalties for defaulting on those contracts. Besides, those other contracts are long-standing deals with the mines. If we don't deliver the timber, the mines will have to shut down for lack of shoring. That means a lot of people will be out of work. I couldn't do that."
"Well, where are we going to get $50,000?" asked Joe.
"We're going to need more than that," Ben explained. "That south slope is a watershed. We've got to make sure we get it cleaned up and re-planted as soon as possible. That means paying extra men."
"Couldn't we just let it go?" asked Joe. "I mean, we could always re-plant it later."
Ben shook his head. "No, Joseph," he answered solemnly. "We owe it to the people in the valley below Big Horn Mountain to try to save it. If we don't, the rains this fall and winter will send a sea of mud down that mountain. And we owe it to the land to try to repair the damage."
Joe chewed thoughtfully as he finished his breakfast. "What happens if we don't pay the penalty?" he asked. He saw the startled look on his father’s face. "I mean, a lot of people default and don't pay off. I've seen it happen," Joe added.
"I've spent a lot of years building up the Cartwright name," answered Ben in an ominous tone. "It's a name that stands for something, a name people can count on. I'm not going to let anyone say that Cartwrights don't pay their debts."
"I was just asking," Joe said hastily.
"Well, what are we going to do?" asked Hoss in a worried voice.
"I'm going back up to the timber camp and see how much we can salvage," declared Adam. "We might be able to get some lumber out of that slope, although it won't be enough."
"We've got about $20,000 in the bank," Ben stated. "I'll talk with Tom Nelson and see how much he can lend us. He told me the other day that his reserves were low, so I don't think he's going to be able to cover the whole thing."
"You know, Pa, we might be able to sell off part of the herd," suggested Hoss with a thoughtful expression on his face. "I heard Jim Thorton sold 50 head last month to some fellow looking for beef for the mines up in Colorado."
"Sell cattle this time of year?" said Joe. "They're just starting spring grazing. They're a long way from being ready for sale."
"I think Hoss has a good idea," Ben declared, a spark of enthusiasm lighting his voice. "We may not be able to get full price for them, but we should be able to get something. I'll send some wires while I'm in town."
"But Pa, if we sell off some of the herd now, we won't have much for the fall round-up," countered Joe. "That'll keep us pretty short of cash over the winter. Especially if we have to pay off a bank loan."
"We'll just have to tighten our belts," replied Ben. He looked around the table. "You boys know how important this ranch is to me, to all of us. But even more valuable is our reputation. If that's damaged, we can never repair it. I'll do whatever is necessary to save this ranch, and to save the Cartwright name."
****************
After breakfast, the Cartwrights left the ranch and rode their separate ways. Adam headed toward the timber camp, while Ben rode into town. Hoss and Joe rode to the herd, both to finish the branding and to calculate how many head of cattle they might be able to sell.
When Hoss and Joe stopped their horses on a small hill overlooking the pasture below, both were pleased to see a crew of men already at work, organizing the branding. The two brothers stared at the herd of cattle below them.
"They're still pretty scrawny," commented Hoss as he looked at the cattle.
"Yeah, they haven't put much of their spring fat on yet," agreed Joe. He peered at the herd. "I figure we might be able to get a decent price for about third of them.”.
"Yep, three or four hundred head at most," acknowledged Hoss. He turned to Joe. "Pa sure is worried, ain't he?"
"Yeah, he really is," Joe admitted. "He puts a lot of stock in the Cartwright name and our reputation. He sure hates to default on that contract."
"Ain't there anything we can do to help?" asked Hoss.
"I wish there was, Hoss," Joe said with a sigh. Then he grinned. "We could rob a bank or something, but I guess that wouldn't do much to help the Cartwright name."
"Maybe we could go prospecting for silver," suggested Hoss.
"Oh yeah, that's great idea," replied Joe wryly. "And six months from now, the Ponderosa would be sold and we'd still be looking." Joe shook his head. "No, all we can do now is go along with Pa and do whatever he decides. We can help him best by just doing whatever he tells us."
"I suppose you're right," conceded Hoss. "I just wish there was more we could do."
"So do I," agreed Joe wistfully. He took a deep breath. "Well, at least we can get the branding finished. Let's get to work." Joe chucked his horse forward and started down the hill.
"Eat hearty, you steers," Hoss muttered as he stared at the herd below. "We need you nice and fat as soon as possible." He turned his horse and started down the hill after Joe.
Hoss and Joe spent the rest of the day finishing off the branding of the new calves. Both men were happy that there were a lot of calves to be branded. That boded well for the future…if the Ponderosa had one. As they moved among the herd, both Hoss and Joe looked carefully at the cattle, trying to gauge exactly how many they could take to market. Both felt the number was discouragingly small.
By mid-afternoon, all but a few of the calves had been branded. Joe had spent most of the day in the saddle, roping and leading the unwilling calves toward the fire at the edge of the pasture. With only a few calves left to do, Joe decided he could best help by working around the fire, either flipping the calves on their side or putting the brand on them. He tied his horse to a tree and walked over by the fire.
"Hey, Jim, why don't we switch for awhile," called Joe as he neared the fire. "You go round up the calves and I'll put the iron on them."
"Fine with me," answered the cowboy. Just then, Hoss rode in, dragging a calf behind him. Two of the hands went to flip the animal on its side. Both Joe and Jim reached for the branding iron that was heating in the fire. Jim reached the iron rod first and brought it up just as Joe was reaching down. Jim banged the iron’s rod hard against Joe's right arm.
"Ouch!" cried Joe. "Be careful, will you!" He started rubbing his arm.
"I'm sorry, Joe," said Jim apologetically. "I thought you wanted me to do this one." Jim looked at Joe's arm. "Ain't that the arm you burned yesterday?" he asked.
"Yeah, it is," Joe replied, rubbing his forearm. He saw the concern in the man's face. "Don't worry about it," Joe told the cowboy. "I'm fine."
"Joe, did you have Hop Sing put some of that ointment of his on your arm?" asked Hoss from the saddle.
"Naw, it's all right," Joe answered. "Just a little burn. Nothing to worry about. You know how it is. When you hurt something, that's the one thing that always seems to get banged again."
Reassured, Hoss grinned. "Well, little brother, if you weren't so clumsy, you wouldn't be banging into things."
"Oh yeah, and I suppose you're Mr. Graceful," retorted Joe with a snort. "That's why Mary Lou was limping after you stepped all over her feet last month at the dance."
The men all laughed and turned back to their work. Joe gave his sore arm a final rub, surprised how much it really hurt. He promised himself that he'd have Hop Sing take a look at his arm tonight.
***********
The men finished the branding within the hour. Joe and Hoss set a rotation of the men to check the herd over the next few days, then headed for home.
When they reached the ranch house, they saw Ben's and Adam's horses tied to the hitching post outside the house. Joe and Hoss dismounted and tied their horses next to the other two.
As they walked into the house, Joe and Hoss were surprised to see Ben and Adam sitting in the living room -- Ben in his favorite red leather chair and Adam on the sofa. Both were leaning forward, studying some papers spread over the low table in front of them.
Hearing the door open, Ben looked up.
“Boys, I’m glad you’re back,” he told his younger sons. “We need to talk.”
Hoss and Joe looked at each other, exchanging worried glances. Their father's tone implied things were still not good. Quickly slipping off their gunbelts and hats and laying them on the bureau near the door, they walked into the living room. Hoss went to the blue chair near the stairs and sat down. Joe perched his hip on the arm of the sofa.
"What's up?" Joe asked. "What happened in town?"
"As I suspected, the bank has only $15,000 to loan us," Ben explained. "The loan plus the money we already have in the back only comes up to $35,000. We’re still about $15,000 short of what we need to pay off the railroad contract."
"It could be less, Pa," insisted Adam. "There are still some trees we can salvage from the south slope."
"Regardless, we still need to raise some cash to pay off that contract as well as re-plant that slope," emphasized Ben. He looked up at Hoss and Joe. "I spent most of the day sending off telegrams, trying to find a buyer for some of our cattle. And I found one."
"That’s great," Hoss told his father, trying to sound encouraged. "But Pa, Joe and I took a close look at the herd. We've got about 500 head that have enough meat on them to sell. That's not a lot."
"That'll be enough," said Ben confidently. "There's a broker in Denver willing to pay us $30 a head for any cattle we can get there before the end of the month."
"$30 a head!" exclaimed Joe. "What is he, crazy?"
"No, just desperate," answered Ben. "This buyer named Edwards has a contract to supply the mining camps and towns in Colorado. He bought a herd but when the cattle arrived, the seller didn't have as many cattle as he promised. Edwards has another herd arriving in about six weeks or so, but he needs beef to make up the difference until then."
"$30 a head," repeated Joe, his voice still showing his disbelief . "That's about $10 more than we've ever gotten. How do we know this Edwards has the money?"
"I had Tom Nelson do some checking," Ben replied. "Edwards has the money. The mines around Colorado are producing a lot of ore. The mine owners are willing to pay high prices to keep their workers fed and on the job." Ben smiled wryly. "They can afford it, considering all the gold and silver they're taking out of those mountains. And they don't much care how fat the cattle are. As long as they have enough meat to feed their workers, the mine owners are happy. Five hundred head should fill the bill, even if they're the scrawniest cattle we've got."
"That's all good, Pa," said Hoss skeptically. "But how do we get the cattle there? Denver's a long way off. It'd take us close to a month to drive a herd there."
"I've been working on that, too," replied Ben. "If we can get the cattle to the railhead in Ogden by the end of next week, the railroad can ship them to Denver. But we have to get them to Ogden by no later than the 18th. Otherwise, the railroad can't take them."
"Pa, we'll never make it," Joe protested. "That gives us less than two weeks to round up the cattle and drive them to Ogden. It'll take two weeks just to get them to the railhead."
"If we use the normal trail, yes," agreed Ben. "But Adam and I have been studying the maps. We think we've laid out a route that will get the herd to Ogden in just ten days."
Bending forward, Joe and Hoss studied the map spread out on the table. A dark line had been traced from the Ponderosa to Ogden on the map. Joe gave a low whistle as he looked at the map.
"Pa, that's some pretty rough country," Joe observed. "And we've never taken cattle that way before. Do you think we can get a herd through there?"
"It's a risk," Ben conceded. "We could lose the herd. But if we make it, we can get the money we need to pay off the railroad contract."
"And if we don't make it?" asked Hoss.
"If we don't make it, I'll have to sell off part of the Ponderosa," answered Ben grimly. "We'll lose a good portion of the ranch."
Joe glanced at Hoss and Adam. "Is it worth it, Pa?" he asked. "I mean, risking the ranch just to meet a contract? Wouldn't it be better just to try and work out a deal with the railroad?"
"The railroad doesn't make deals," Adam told his brother. "If we don't deliver the timber or pay the penalty, they'll haul us into court. And we could end up losing all of the Ponderosa."
"And they would make sure everyone knew we didn't pay up," added Ben. "The Cartwright name would be dragged through the mud. I'd do almost anything to avoid that." Ben looked at his sons. "Before you decide, there's an added complication to moving the herd this time of year. Drovers are hard to find in the spring. And Adam is going to need all the hands we can spare to work up in the lumber camp. That means we'll be moving 500 head of cattle through some rough country with a skeleton crew."
The Cartwrights sat silently, each thinking about the implications of what Ben had said.
Finally, Ben looked around the room. "Well, what's it going to be?" he asked. "Do we take the risk of trying to get the cattle to Ogden by the end of next week? Or should I just start looking for buyers for some of our land right now?"
"I don't see we have much choice," answered Hoss. "I vote we take the cattle to the railhead."
"I agree," Adam chimed in. Then he grinned. "Of course, I don't have to drive them, so I'm not sure my vote means much."
Ben looked at Joe. "Well, Joseph, it's up to you. If we're not all agreed, I won't risk it. We can always try to buy the land back later."
Thinking hard, Joe chewed on his lip for a minute. He knew the drive would be rough and dangerous. And there was a good chance of them not making it in time. But the thought of selling off some of the Ponderosa was something Joe just couldn't stomach. "Well, I didn't have much planned for the next few weeks,” answered Joe with a wry smile. "I might as well drive some cattle through the mountains to Ogden."
Ben smiled. "Thank you, boys," he said gratefully. "I know it's a tough situation, but I'm sure we're going to come through this."
"Well, if we don't," suggested Joe with an impish grin, "we can always skip out and change our names. I always thought Brown was kind of a nice name."
*****************
Dinner that night turned into a working meal. As they ate, the Cartwrights planned the cattle drive, discussing possible drovers, how long it would take to round up the cows, and every other aspect of the drive. Even Hop Sing was distracted. Ben had talked the cook into making the drive with them. Now Hop Sing was frantically checking the larder and making up a list of supplies he would need.
After dinner, Adam, Ben and Hoss headed for bed, making plans for an early start in the morning. Joe lingered behind, saying he wanted another look at the map. He waited until the others had climbed the stairs, then headed toward the kitchen. "Hop Sing!" shouted Joe as he came to the doorway of the kitchen.
Hop Sing was counting sacks of flour and sugar, and marking them off a piece of paper on the table. He looked up as Joe entered. "What you want?" asked the cook in a frazzled voice. “Hop Sing busy. Have much work to do. No time for foolishment.”
Joe hesitated, then shook his head. "Nothing," he replied quietly. "It's not important. I'll see you in the morning." Hop Sing nodded with a distracted air and returned to his counting, muttering softly in Chinese.
Walking out of the kitchen, Joe flexed his right hand as he walked. He winced a bit as he climbed the stairs. His arm felt tight and sore. Joe shook his head again. His arm would be fine in a day or two, he decided. Besides, there were more important things to worry about.
***********
The next two days were long days in the saddle for Joe, Hoss and Ben. They rounded up and cut out the best 500 head of cattle they could find. Despite Ben's assurance that the mine owners in Colorado would take any beef, Ben was determined to deliver the best cattle he had available. He felt it was important that any herd that carried the Cartwright name be considered good stock.
Twice Adam made the trip to Virginia City, looking for drovers, while his father and brothers rounded up the cattle. Both times, he came back alone.
Joe's arm was still bothering him but he had found some ointment in the barn that seemed to help. He wasn't exactly sure what the stuff was but he knew Hoss used it on horses when they got rashes. He decided to try some on his arm. The ointment burned a bit but then his arm seemed to get numb. It made his right hand a bit hard to use, but at least the pain was gone. Joe had slipped the jar of ointment into his jacket pocket. He used it whenever his arm seemed to be aching, and each time, the ointment numbed the pain.
Over dinner the second night, the Cartwrights discussed and argued about how many men were needed at the lumber camp and how many men were needed on the drive. They finally decided that Ben, Joe and Hoss would take four men; Adam would have the rest of the hands report to the lumber camp.
"Seven men to move that herd through the mountains to Utah," said Hoss with a shake of his head as he climbed the stairs to his room. "That's cutting things pretty thin."
Joe shrugged as he climbed the stairs with his brother. "We'll have to make do," Joe told his brother in a tired voice.
Stopping at the top of the stairs, Hoss put his hand out, halting his brother's climb. "Joe, are you all right?" he asked with concern. "You look kind of peaked."
"Next to you, I always look peaked," replied Joe, giving Hoss a small smile. He shook his head. "I'm fine," Joe added. "Just tired. It's been a long two days."
"Yeah, and it's going to get worse," Hoss lamented. He looked at his brother carefully. "Joe, we need every hand we can get on this drive, and we need everyone to pull their weight. If there's something wrong, now's the time to speak up."
"Believe me, Hoss," Joe answered, his smile widening, “if I could figure out a way to get out of this cattle drive, I would."
Laughing, Hoss turned and walked to his room. Behind Hoss' back, Joe rubbed his right arm. The burning ache in his arm seemed to be getting worse. As Joe headed toward his room, he thought about saying something to his father, or at least going into Virginia City tomorrow so the doctor could take a look at his arm. Joe's arm hurt once the effects of the ointment wore off, and the burn didn't seem to be healing. Then he remembered Hoss' words about needing every hand. A few small blisters had appeared, but the ointment he was using seemed to keep them from getting worse. To Joe's eye, his arm didn't look swollen, and there weren't any red streaks or signs of blood poisoning. The pain wasn't so bad, Joe decided, as long as he didn't slam his arm into anything and kept using the ointment. He could stand it for another ten days or so. If his arm still bothered him, he'd have the doctor in Ogden take a look at it. His father had enough on his mind right now without Joe adding to his problems. As Joe headed for bed, he decided that he'd say nothing about his arm until they got the herd to Ogden.
**********************
The cattle drive started with the usual flurry of activity and confusion. Adam came down from the timber camp to help get things organized. When the cattle finally were herded together on the trail and pointed in the right direction, Ben gave a signal with his hand, and the men started shouting, whistling and waving their arms. The startled cattle began walking slowly down the trail.
"Take care of things while we gone," said Ben to Adam as the two rode side by side.
"I will," Adam replied. "Promise you'll send me a telegram as soon as you get to Ogden. I don't think I can stand the suspense of waiting until you get back."
"I will," agreed Ben. He looked ahead at the cattle and men moving up the trail. "It's a good thing I have Hoss and Joe with me," added Ben. "The rest of the men are pretty new at this. I don't think any of them have ever been on a drive before."
"You can count on Hoss and Joe," Adam assured his father. "Just use them for the important things, and the rest of the men can fill in."
"I know," acknowledged Ben. He stuck out his hand. "Take care, son."
"You too," said Adam as he shook his father's hand. "I'll see you in a couple of weeks."
As Adam pulled his mount to a stop, Ben gently kicked his horse forward. Adam watched as cattle and men rode up the trail. Then he turned his horse and rode to the timber camp.
The first two days of the cattle drive were relatively easy. The herd followed a well-worn trail, giving the inexperienced hands a chance to practice driving the cattle. All the hands were used to rounding up cattle and branding them, but none except the Cartwrights had ever tried to drive an unwilling steer up a trail before. In the past, experienced drovers had done that task while the ranch hands stayed behind. Now the men began to learn how to get the cattle moving without spooking them, and how to get the cattle to settle down at the end of the day.
On the third day, the herd came to the turnoff which would take it into the mountains. Ben halted the drive, and rode to the edge of the trail. Hoss and Joe rode up to join their father.
"What's wrong?" asked Joe as he pulled his pinto to a stop.
"Nothing," Ben answered in a distracted voice. He stared at the trail leading to the mountains.
"Pa, are you having second thoughts about this?" asked Hoss. "If you are, we can always follow this trail. It'll take us right into Ogden."
"Yes, but not soon enough," Ben stated. He took a deep breath. "All right, boys. Let's head the cattle this way." Joe and Hoss turned their horses and rode back to the herd. Ben waited until the cattle reached the trail, then began leading the steers off the main trail and to the mountains.
The rest of the day was spent herding the cattle along the increasingly narrow and steep trail. Ben frequently consulted the map he had brought, reassuring himself that there was a place ahead to bed down the herd. Finally, at dusk, the herd came to a small meadow. With a sigh of relief, Ben gestured to the men to bring the cattle forward.
It was dark by the time the cattle were settled for the night. Ben rode wearily to the camp that Hop Sing had made at the edge of the meadow. Half the crew was already eating dinner. He saw Joe sitting on a rock near the chuck wagon. Ben was so tired that he didn't notice Joe was holding a plate awkwardly with his right hand as he ate with his left.
"Got them settled down?" asked Joe as Ben approached the wagon.
"Yes, finally," answered Ben in a weary voice. "Joe, I want you to take night guard tonight. Jim and Pete will ride with you. I'll get Hoss to relieve you around midnight."
"All right," Joe agreed. He tried to keep the dismay out of his voice. He had been hoping to get some sleep as soon as he finished eating. His arm was beginning to throb and he hadn't had a chance to put some of the ointment on it. Joe felt bone-tired and he dreaded the thought of several more hours in the saddle.
"I know I've been working you and Hoss pretty hard," added Ben. "But I need you boys to help keep this drive moving."
"I know," Joe acknowledged. He took a deep breath. Joe figured he could get through a few more hours. "We'll get the herd to Ogden on time. We know how important it is to you."
"To all of us," corrected Ben. "It's important to all of us. It means keeping the Ponderosa intact. And it means keeping the name of Cartwright to mean someone you can count on."
Nodding, Joe scooped a few more spoonfuls of stew from his plate to his mouth, then stood. The plate slipped from his right hand and landed on the dirt. Joe quickly picked up the plate with his left hand, being careful to keep his right hand out of sight.
Ben frowned slightly as he watched Joe pick up the plate and walk away. Something struck him as not quite right, but he couldn't figure out what it was. Ben shrugged it off. He was tired and he was hungry. And he had too much on his mind to start imagining new worries.
******************
Joe rode slowly around the cattle. It seemed liked he had been on night guard for about three days instead of a few hours. And he knew he wasn’t doing a very good job at guarding the herd. He was paying little attention to the herd, relying on the other two men to alert him to trouble. Joe’s arm was throbbing and burning. He held his arm protectively across his chest, resting his right hand inside his jacket. All he wanted to do was get through with this job and get back to camp. Then he could put some ointment on his arm and get some rest.
Hearing a rider coming up behind him, Joe eased his arm out of his jacket and let it fall to his side, wincing at the movement. Then he slowly turned his horse.
“It’s about time you got here,” Joe complained. Even in the dark, he recognized the big man with the tall white hat riding toward him. “Pa said you were going to relieve me at midnight.”
“One of the horses came up with a stone bruise and it took me awhile to treat it,” explained Hoss.
“Four hours to fix a stone bruise?” said Joe skeptically.
“Well, I wanted to get some sleep,” replied Hoss, his voice sounding as cranky as Joe’s. “I have to ride all day tomorrow too, you know.”
Joe knew he was acting unreasonably. Hoss was working just as hard as he was. But Joe was so tired and he couldn’t think of anything except getting back to camp so he could put the ointment on his arm. “Sorry,” Joe muttered briefly. He jerked his head to the side, gesturing at the cattle.
“They’re pretty quiet so you shouldn’t have any trouble. I’m heading to camp.” Joe didn’t wait for Hoss’ reply. He kicked his horse forward and rode toward the chuck wagon.
The camp was quiet as Joe rode in. He could see his father and Hop Sing sleeping on the ground. He knew Pete and Jim would be coming in soon. Joe quickly tied his horse to the back of the chuck wagon. He knew he had to take care of his arm before Pete and Jim showed up.
Dismounting, Joe pulled the jar of ointment out of his saddle bag. He quickly unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged his arm out of the sleeve of both his shirt and jacket. Even in the dim light from the campfire, Joe could see his arm looked red and angry. There were several more blisters, and some of them had popped open. Joe turned his arm, looking for the tell-tale streaks of blood poisoning, and was relieved not to see any. His arm was swollen around the burn, but the swelling didn’t seem to extend beyond that area. Joe unscrewed the lid of the jar and dipped his hand into the ointment. He began spreading the ointment over the burned area.
As he felt the sharp burning of the ointment, Joe gasped a bit. He gently began to rub the ointment in, gritting his teeth against the pain it caused. But soon the familiar numbness began to seep through the arm. Joe rubbed in some more ointment, relieved at the departure of the pain in his forearm. Hearing the sound of approaching horses, Joe quickly shoved his arm back into the sleeve of his jacket and shirt. He screwed the lid back on the jar and was putting the jar into his saddle bag when Jim and Pete rode up. Keeping his back to the riders, Joe buttoned his shirt.
Pete and Jim looked at Joe curiously, wondering why his horse was by the chuck wagon and not with the rest of the horses. They saw Joe was unbuckling his saddle and slipping it off his pinto. The saddle fell to the ground as Joe’s right hand refused to close tightly enough to hold it. Joe picked up the saddle with his left hand and eased it a few feet away from the wagon.
Turning around, Joe saw the other two men watching him. “What are you looking at?” he growled in a low voice.
Surprised, Jim and Pete glanced at each other, then shrugged. “Nothing,” Pete answered. He turned his horse and walked it toward the picket line where the other horses stood. Jim stared at Joe for a minute then also turned his horse.
Untying his pinto from the back of the chuck wagon, Joe walked the animal toward the picket line. Jim and Pete ignored him as they unsaddled their own horses. Joe chewed his lip for a minute, trying to think of something to say to the men. But since he didn’t know what to say, he said nothing. He simply slipped the bridle off his horse, replacing it with a rope halter. Then he tied his horse to the picket line. Without a word, Joe turned and walked back to the camp.
**********
Joe felt he had been asleep only a few minutes when he heard the banging of a spoon against a tin plate. “Breakfast!” shouted Hop Sing. Joe groaned and turned on his side, trying to get a few more minutes of sleep.
“Come on, Joe, get up,” said Ben, gently nudging his son with his foot. “Breakfast is ready.”
“I’m not hungry,” mumbled Joe, hunching his shoulders up.
Ben sighed. Joe was notoriously hard to wake in the morning, even on the trail. “Joe, get up,” Ben urged in a louder voice. “We’ve got a lot a miles to cover today.” He waited until Joe slowly sat up. Satisfied Joe was awake, he walked toward Hop Sing.
“Hop Sing, we’re not going to stop for a noon meal today,” Ben announced in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “We need to make up some ground, and besides, there’s really no place along the trail to stop the herd. We’re going to push the cattle until we reach the next meadow. That’ll be sometime after dark.” Ben heard the soft groans of the men behind him.
“Eat a hearty breakfast, boys,” suggested Ben as he turned to face the drovers. “If you get hungry along the trail, catch up to the wagon. Hop Sing has plenty of hardtack and jerky for you.” The groan got louder.
“Hop Sing take wagon in front,” announced the cook. “Have good meal for everyone at camp in the meadow tonight.”
Ben smiled gratefully at the cook. He knew the promise of a good meal at the end of the day would keep the men going through the rough ride. Ben poured himself a cup of coffee and looked around the camp. The men were already gathering up saddles and blankets, preparing for the day’s work. All that is, except Joe. Joe was still sitting on the ground, rubbing his eyes.
“Joe, get a move on,” shouted Ben.
Joe looked up at his father and nodded unenthusiastically.
Ben frowned as he looked at Joe. His youngest son looked tired, more tired than he should at this early stage of the drive. Ben also thought he looked a bit pale. He walked over to his son. “Joe, are you all right?” he asked with concern.
“I’m fine, Pa,” Joe answered wearily. He managed a weak smile. “You know waking up in the morning isn’t exactly my favorite thing to do.”
“I need you to ride point today,” Ben told the youngest Cartwright. “I haven’t got anyone else I can trust to do it. Hoss and I are going to be busy keeping the herd moving. The rest of the hands aren’t too good at that yet.”
“All right,” agreed Joe. He rubbed the back of neck with his hand. “How many more days until we need to get to Ogden?”
“About a week,” answered Ben. “If we drive the cattle all day, we should pick up a little time.”
“We’ll get them there on time,” Joe assured his father.
Ben clapped his son lightly on the shoulder and turned away. He didn’t notice the wince of pain on Joe’s face as his son rubbed his right arm lightly.
Joe made sure he was the last one to leave camp. He waited until Hop Sing was busy loading the wagon and the other riders were heading toward the herd. Quickly, he pulled the jar out of his saddle bag, and, slipping his arm out of his sleeve, rubbed the numbing ointment over the burn. Joe thought the burn looked about the same. At least, it wasn’t getting any worse. He’d have to figure out a way to get the ointment on later when the numbness started to wear off. Joe sighed. He knew how important this drive was to his father, and he knew his Pa was counting on him to help get the cattle to Ogden on time. He’d just have to manage somehow for another week.
For the rest of the day, Joe led the cattle through the narrow mountain trail. When the ointment started to wear off and his arm began to hurt, Joe simply rode ahead, as if he were catching up to Hop Sing. He found a place on the trail, out of sight, and quickly slavered the ointment on his arm. Then he waited for the herd to catch up to him. Joe congratulated himself on his little ploy. His arm stayed numb most of the day, and no one seemed to think it was odd that he would disappear for a bit.
Riding at the front of the herd, Joe kept the drive moving at a good pace -- fast enough to pick up some ground but not too fast that it worked the fat off the cattle. He managed to get the herd to the meadow where Hop Sing had set up camp just as the sky was turning dark with night. He led the cattle into the meadow, and quickly turned the herd in on itself, helping the cattle settle for the night. He even rode around the herd while the others headed for the promised meal. Joe was feeling a burst of energy, brought on by the absence of an ache in his arm. His only concern was that the ointment was getting low. He wondered what he would do when he used up everything in the jar.
When Hoss and two of the men came out to act as night guards, Joe finally rode into camp. He led his horse to the picket line, and then took a peek over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching. Confident that he was not being observed, Joe quickly spread some of the ointment over his arm, feeling the now familiar burning followed by a soothing numbness. Satisfied his arm would not bother him for awhile, Joe walked back to the camp fire.
Filling a plate with some stew from a pot hanging over the fire, Joe settled on the ground, resting his back against the wheel of the chuck wagon. Even the hard ground felt good after a full day in the saddle. He looked up as he saw his father approaching.
“Joe, you did a good job today,” said Ben as he sat down next to his son.
“Thanks,” replied Joe. “Maybe I should ride point all the time.”
“It’s all right with me as long as Hoss doesn’t mind,” Ben agreed. “Your brother might not appreciate being back in the dust the whole way.”
“I’ll talk him into it,” Joe told his father with a grin.
“I’m sure you will,” Ben observed, smiling affectionately as his youngest son. He took a deep breath. “You know, Joe, for the first time, I actually think we might pull this off.”
Joe looked surprised. “You mean, you didn’t think this would work?” he asked.
Ben shrugged. “I thought we had a chance, but I knew the odds were long,” he admitted. “I didn’t want to give up without at least trying, though.”
“It means a lot to you, doesn’t it,” Joe stated in a serious voice. “I mean, I know you don’t want to sell off any of the ranch. But keeping the Cartwright name clean, that’s what’s really important to you, isn’t it.”
“Yes it is,” Ben answered, nodding. “It’s hard to explain. I’ve seen a lot of men in my life, good men, who made some mistakes. They never were looked at quite the same way again. My cousin John had a farm in Ohio. He had a bad time one year. No rain, insects, everything. He couldn’t bring in a crop and he couldn’t pay back a bank loan. The bank ended up taking his farm. John started over again, but everyone knew what had happened. People treated him differently. They didn’t trust him quite as much, and he knew it.”
“But it wasn’t his fault,” Joe argued. “I mean, he had some bad luck. It’s not like he wouldn’t have paid back the bank if he had had the money. That doesn’t seem fair.”
“It’s not fair,” agreed Ben. “But it’s human nature. People don’t forget when you’ve had a failure. They might forget the details, but they’ll remember you didn’t pay a debt. I’ve worked hard to make sure my word meant something, to make sure I never broke a promise or didn’t pay a debt. If I have to sell the Ponderosa to insure we pay the railroad, I will. I never want to end up like John.”
Sitting quietly, Joe thought about what his father had said. The reputation of the Cartwrights didn’t mean as much to Joe as it obviously did to his father. But maybe that was because Joe took it for granted. He knew people respected and trusted his Pa, and some of that respect and trust had filtered down to Joe. Joe just never thought about how hard his father had worked to build and keep their reputation intact.
“Pa, we’ll get the cattle through,” promised Joe. “And we’ll get them there on time. I know how much the Ponderosa means to you. We’ll make sure you don’t have to sell a single acre.”
“I know we will,” Ben replied with a smile. “Now you get some rest. You’re riding late night guard tonight.” Ben grinned at the dismay on Joe’s face. “Now, it’s only fair,” he added. “Hoss had the late duty last night.”
“Yeah, I know,” acknowledged Joe. Then his face brightened. “But that means he’ll be tired when I talk with him tonight. I’m sure I can get him to let me ride point for the rest of the drive.”
Shaking his head, Ben laughed. “I don’t want to know the details,” he said as he got up and walked away.
Flexing his right hand, Joe tried to get some feeling back into it. He was more determined than ever not to let his father down.
****************
The drive fell into a routine over the next four days. Joe rode point every day, and used the job to hide the treatments he was putting on his arm. He was concerned that his arm wasn’t getting any better, and that the ointment was almost gone. But he was able to do his job and that was the most important thing to Joe right now.
The herd was about a day away from Ogden when Joe used the last of the ointment. He scraped the sides of the jar, trying to get the last of the greasy mixture out of the container. When he was convinced there was no more left, Joe threw the jar away. He knew the burning pain would come back, and there was nothing he could do to ease it. Joe figured he would just have to grit his teeth and get through the next days or so. It mattered little to Joe that the drive was ahead of schedule, and would arrive in Ogden with at least a day to spare. All he could think about was enduring the pain that he knew would be flaring up shortly.
By the end of the day, Joe wasn’t sure he was going to be able to stand the pain for another hour, much less another day. His arm burned with a fierce pain and the skin on his right hand felt tight and swollen. Any movement sent pains shooting up his arm. Joe felt feverish; he could feel the beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Once more, Joe cradled his arm across his chest and rested his hand inside his jacket. He was breathing hard and soft grunts of pain escaped involuntarily from lips. He let Cochise lead the herd. Luckily, his horse seemed to know what to do. Joe just concentrated on staying in the saddle.
Because Joe was riding point at the front