Wagon Train to Hell
By: Rona Y.
The young driver of the
wagon was cold and wet. His hands were almost numb despite his gloves and sleet
poured down relentlessly. It was no consolation that everyone else was in the
same boat. The sudden, unexpectedly early arrival of winter had caught them all
unawares, and the chances of them getting safely down off this mountain were
growing smaller with every minute that passed. The rutted trail they were
following was swiftly becoming a bog and the horses were beginning to slide.
Glancing up, the driver saw
that they were nearing the next pass. The trail opened out again after that,
and they might make better time. But the pass itself was tricky, with lots of
overhanging boulders and an eerie echo. Horses regularly spooked there and the
driver could only hope that the lead wagoner knew this. If there was a wagon
crash in the pass, they were in deep trouble.
Up ahead, the wagons in
front came to a stop. Carefully, the driver drew his team to a halt and the
horses stopped willingly, stretching their heads down. A rider emerged from the
mass of bodies and approached his wagon.
“Any advice about what’s ahead, Cartwright?” the leader asked.
“This pass is tough on the
horses. It might be a good idea to lead the teams through. There’s less chance
of runaways if that happens,” Joe Cartwright replied.
“Can we ask you to lead the
teams?” Jake Fox asked. “You’ve got the most experience of any of the folks on
this trip.”
The thought of slogging
through the mud with half a dozen teams made Joe want to groan, but he had
volunteered to go along on this trip and he didn’t want to be responsible for
anything going wrong now. Most of the other drivers weren’t horse men, they
were store-keepers or tradesmen. “All right,” he agreed. “Someone stay with my
team, and I’ll get the others through the pass.”
Jumping down from the wagon
seat, Joe reluctantly relinquished his rain slicker. The wind was getting up
and he knew that it blew through the narrow pass like a gale. He didn’t want to
spook any horses with the flapping slicker.
Walking forward, Joe
cautioned each teamster not to shout at his team, or anyone else, while they
were in the pass. Everyone seemed to understand. Joe just hoped that everyone would
remember when push came to shove.
Coming to the lead wagon,
Joe fondled the horses’ noses for a moment, before taking the reins and leading
them slowly forward. The footing was horrific and the horses slipped and slid.
Joe had no idea how he was going to get all the wagons through. But they had
to. A whole town was relying on them, and they had to get through.
It took a lot of patience
and some time, but Joe got the team through safely. Drawing a deep breath and
wiping the sweat from his brow, Joe went back for the next wagon. He repeated
this several times before every wagon but his own was through the pass.
Of all the teams Joe
expected to have trouble with, his own was not the one that crossed his mind.
Grasping the bridle in his frozen hand, Joe urged his team on. The off-side
horse baulked, and Joe forced himself to relax. His muscles were tense from the
uncertain footing, and things were just getting worse. Joe was caked in mud up
to his knees and he was soaked to the skin.
Reassured, the off-side
horse took a step forward and its foot slid out from underneath it and struck
Joe. Joe was knocked over and his last conscious thought was ‘I’m dead!’
*******************
“Joseph!” thundered Ben
Cartwright, as his youngest son galloped into the yard and hauled his horse to
a stop by the hitching rail. “How many times do I have to tell you not to race
into the yard like that?” Ben had lost count of the number of times he’d said
it, yet it never seemed to register with Joe. After losing his wife, Marie, to
a similar accident, and then Joe being injured when his horse fell as he
galloped into the yard, Ben could hardly believe that Joe was still forgetting
this rule. Ben’s heart leapt up to his throat every time he saw Joe do this.
“Sorry, Pa,” Joe panted. He
looked singularly unrepentant, Ben thought, with his hat tipped at a rakish
angle and his face flushed with excitement. “Pa, you know Watson’s Crossing?”
Perplexed, Ben nodded. “The
new township over the mountains. Yes, what of it?”
“There’s been a fire,” Joe
explained. “The whole town has burned to the ground! A telegraph message came
through from the next town along. People have been hurt, and
“Calm down!” Ben ordered.
“A fire? It sounds bad. When are the wagons leaving?”
“In the morning,” Joe
answered. He eyed his father closely, wondering what the reaction would be when
Ben realised that Joe had volunteered to go along.
After a moment’s thought,
Ben did indeed realise what Joe had said, and he eyed his son askance. “You
volunteered to go?” he asked, quietly and Joe nodded.
“The people who are sending
things and going along to drive the wagons don’t have a lot of experience with
horses, Pa, and certainly not travelling with heavy loads over the mountains.
Jake Fox is going to lead the way, but he hasn’t got any experience with
wagons.” Joe had rehearsed his plea until he was word perfect, but some
instinct made him add only one more thing. “And you know
“All right,” Ben said,
slowly.
“Thanks, Pa,” Joe cried and
hugged his father. “You’re the greatest!”
“Never mind the
compliments!” Ben scolded, although he was delighted. “You go and get packed
and I’ll get things organised here.” As Joe bounced towards the house, he
called, “Joe.”
Turning, Joe gave his
father a sunlit smile. “Yeah, Pa?”
“You will be careful in
those mountains, won’t you?” Ben had promised himself he wouldn’t say that, but
it was too late now; the words were out.
Sobering, Joe nodded. “I’ll
be very careful,” he promised.
****************
The rest of the afternoon
was spent in hurried preparations. Joe packed his saddlebags and then Hop Sing
re-packed them, muttering all the time. He also gave Joe supplies for the trip,
enough to feed several people for quite a number of days.
Meanwhile, Ben organised
the loading of the dressed timber into a wagon and Adam and Hoss slaughtered
some beeves, packing the meat carefully away. All was in readiness by the time
the early darkness fell and supper was on the table.
“Ain’t supper a mite
early?” Hoss asked, rubbing his hands in anticipation.
“Are you complaining?” Adam
retorted. “You were telling me just a short time ago that you were starved.”
Frowning at Adam, Hoss
tried his best to look annoyed. “I ain’t complainin’,” he replied. “I were jist
askin’, is all.”
“Lil Joe eat early, go to
bed early, get up early,” Hop Sing answered, in his most enigmatic manner, that
he knew drove the Cartwrights mad. “Boy do important work.”
“Thanks,” Joe replied,
feeling rather dazed. He suddenly wasn’t so sure he wanted to go on this trip,
but when he remembered the people who were out in this cold weather, with no
homes and precious little food, he thanked his lucky stars that he had a roof
over his head and enough to eat. He felt renewed determination to do whatever
he could for them.
“Do you think one of us
should go with
“I think Joe’s capable of
managing on his own,” Ben responded, glancing proudly at his son. “But I need you
here, Adam. We have that timber contract to finish before the weather turns,
and it didn’t look too promising this afternoon.”
“An’ I’m movin’ the herd
down ta winter pasture,” Hoss added, although he felt the same protective urge
as his older sibling. “Joe c’n manage on his own.”
Outnumbered, Adam shrugged.
“Okay, okay,” he allowed, holding his hands up in surrender. “It was just a
suggestion.”
“I appreciate it, Adam,”
Joe assured him. “But I’ll be fine.”
*********************
It was still dark as Joe
hitched the horses to the wagon the next morning. A thin, cold rain was falling
and Joe shivered inside his oiled rain slicker. As he checked the traces one
last time, Hoss came out of the house and tossed his saddlebags under the wagon
seat. “All set?” he asked.
“Yeah, thanks, Hoss,” Joe
replied. He crossed back to the house to bid goodbye to his family. “I’m ready
to go, Pa,” he told them.
“Be careful,” Ben
admonished him once more. “We’ll be waiting for you here when you get back.” He
pulled Joe towards him and hugged him hard. Joe hugged back.
“Take care, squirt,” Adam
joked, touching Joe’s cheek briefly.
“Be good, Punkin,” Hoss
advised. He gave Joe a bear hug, which was the only kind he knew.
“I’ll be home as soon as I
can,” Joe promised. “You all be careful, too, you hear?” Smiling, Joe headed
out to the wagon, climbing onto the seat and gathering the reins. He let the
brake out and waved to his family, who stood together under the shelter of the
porch roof.
As he drove towards the
town, Joe felt unaccountably lonely.
********************
It was still dark when Joe
arrived in town, but the eastern horizon was beginning to lighten, suggesting
that dawn was on the way. The other wagons were ready, and Joe fell in behind
them. Jake Fox was leading the way and Joe was just as happy to let him. He
parked his wagon and went along the line, surreptitiously checking the traces
and hitchings. A few people noticed, but no one took offence. They would be the
first to admit that they weren’t very experienced at this kind of thing.
The cavalcade moved out at
dawn. One of the cafés had opened early and provided coffee and hot food for
the people who were leaving, and Joe had taken advantage of the coffee. He was quite
chilled by his journey from the ranch. He felt a good deal warmer by the time
they left.
Travelling by wagon was a
tedious business. The wagons could only move at the pace of the slowest, and
because they were going into the mountains, the journey was mostly uphill. Some
of the heavier wagons, Joe’s included, had to stop frequently to rest, which
slowed them down further. At
Standing beside his wagon,
Joe looked up as Jake Fox walked over. “You seen the mountains?” Jake asked, in
a low voice.
“Yeah,” Joe replied,
equally quietly. He resisted looking in that direction. “Or should I say, I haven’t seen the mountains?”
“Think that’s snow up
there?” Jake went on, looking anywhere but the direction they were soon to be
going.
“I’ll be surprised if it
isn’t,” Joe answered. “This rain is pretty sleety down here, and we’ve got
quite a bit to climb before we get to the pass to Watson’s Crossing.”
“D’ya think I should say
anythin’?” Jake asked.
“No point worrying anyone,”
Joe replied. “We can’t afford the time it would need to go round by the road.
By the time we get that high, the weather might have changed. We won’t reach
the passes tonight, that’s for sure.”
“Guess you’re right,” Jake
agreed. He straightened. “Let’s get movin’!” he shouted. “Time’s a-wastin’!”
*******************
They made camp that first
night at the upper edge of the tree line. The passes were a few hours ahead,
but it was too dark to risk going further. The trees gave them some shelter,
and as camp was set up, Joe went along, making sure everyone had tended their
horses and that all the animals had had some grain. The sleet had stopped about
mid-afternoon, but Joe, looking at the mountains in the growing gloom, thought
that it wouldn’t be long before it started again.
They were all too tired to
talk. Hot food was handed out, and if the cooking was basic, that didn’t matter
to any of the men. They were just glad it was hot. As the food was tidied away
after eating, and the few tin plates were washed, Joe walked over to Jake.
“I’ll take first watch,” he offered.
“You reckon we need a
watch?” Jake asked.
“Better safe than sorry,”
Joe replied. “I doubt if any self-respecting Indian would be out on a night
like this, but we’ve got plenty of stuff they could use, and I’d hate to lose
any of it, never mind any person. Set up a rota, and get the others to watch in
pairs; that way they can keep each other awake.”
“I’ll watch with you,” Jake
offered, but Joe shook his head.
“You take last watch,
Jake,” Joe suggested. “That way both of us are quite fresh. We’ve both stood
watch alone before, and can keep awake.”
“All right,” agreed Jake.
He glanced up at the sky as the first drops of rain began to fall again. “Don’t
look like there’ll be a lot of sleep for any of us,” he commented.
Shrugging resignedly, Joe
went over with Jake to organise a watch rota. He agreed with Jake; it didn’t
look like any of them would get much sleep.
***************
Next morning saw all the
wagon drivers grainy eyed and tired. Jake had been right; none of them had had
much sleep, as the rain fell non-stop. Gazing gloomily into his coffee, Joe
watched a flake of snow dissolve in the hot liquid. He hoped that wasn’t a
harbinger of worse weather to come. “Stop borrowing trouble,” he scolded
himself silently. “The trip is going as well as can be expected so far. Why
should anything change?” But he knew why; the most difficult part of the
journey was in front of them.
All too soon, the horses
were hitched up and the men climbed reluctantly onto the wagon seats again.
Jake, seeing everyone was ready, gave the signal and they all moved out.
Shaking up his team, Joe thought that with any luck, they would reach Watson’s
Crossing by nightfall.
*****************
By mid-morning, the string
of wagons had arrived at the first of the passes. This one was easy to
negotiate, and the drivers went through without pausing, and some barely
noticed. The second pass was a little narrower, but again, caused no problems.
The leather he was gripping
in his frozen hands was wet and slippery and Joe was feeling miserable. The
snow had so far kept off, but the sleet seemed at that moment to be the worst
option of the two. The ground was so wet, that if snow did begin to fall, at
least it wouldn’t lie immediately.
Up ahead, the wagons in
front came to a stop. Carefully, Joe drew his team to a halt and the horses
stopped willingly, stretching their heads down. A rider emerged from the mass
of bodies and approached his wagon. “Any
advice about what’s ahead, Cartwright?” Jake asked.
“This pass is tough on the
horses. It might be a good idea to lead the teams through. There’s less chance
of runaways if that happens,” Joe replied.
“Can we ask you to lead the
teams?” Jake asked. “You’ve got the most experience of any of the folks on this
trip.”
The thought of slogging
through the mud with half a dozen teams made Joe want to groan, but he had
volunteered to go along on this trip and he didn’t want to be responsible for
anything going wrong now. “All right,” he agreed. “Someone stay with my team,
and I’ll get the others through the pass.”
Jumping down from the wagon
seat, Joe reluctantly relinquished his rain slicker. The wind was getting up
and he knew that it blew through the narrow pass like a gale. He didn’t want to
spook any horses with the flapping slicker.
Walking forward, Joe
cautioned each teamster not to shout at his team, or anyone else, while they
were in the pass. Everyone seemed to understand. Joe just hoped that everyone
would remember when push came to shove.
Coming to the lead wagon,
Joe fondled the horses’ noses for a moment, before taking the reins and leading
them slowly forward. The footing was horrific and the horses slipped and slid.
Joe had no idea how he was going to get all the wagons through. But they had
to. A whole town was relying on them, and they had to get through.
It took a lot of patience
and some time, but Joe got the team through safely. Drawing a deep breath and
wiping the sweat from his brow, Joe went back for the next wagon. He repeated
this several times before every wagon but his own was through the pass.
Of all the teams Joe
expected to have trouble with, his own was not the one that crossed his mind.
Grasping the bridle in his frozen hand, Joe urged his team on. The off-side
horse baulked, and Joe forced himself to relax. His muscles were tense from the
uncertain footing, and things were just getting worse. Joe was caked in mud up
to his knees and he was soaked to the skin.
Reassured, the off-side
horse took a step forward and its foot slid out from underneath it and struck
Joe. Joe was knocked over and his last conscious thought was ‘I’m dead!’
****************
As he opened his eyes, Joe
realised that he couldn’t have been unconscious for more than a few moments.
Jake was leaning over him, worry in his dark eyes. “Joe, are you all right?” he
asked.
“I’m fine, help me up,” Joe
replied. He stifled a groan as he extended his arm. Pain shot along his ribs
and Joe recognised the signs. His ribs were badly bruised. He raised his other
hand to his head and felt the bump there. He had been unlucky, for his horse
had knocked him onto the only hard rock in that whole sea of mud.
The other men had realised
that something was going on and were starting back towards Joe. He waved his
hand, indicating he was all right. “Let’s move on,” he told Jake.
Nodding, Jake remounted his
horse and went to the front of the wagon train. Joe checked out his horse,
amazed to find the animal uninjured. Bending over made his head spin and he was
soaked through. Climbing onto the wagon seat, Joe donned his slicker once more,
reflecting that he could hardly get any wetter. He was also thankful that his father
wasn’t there, for if he had been, Joe would not have been allowed to just climb
back on the wagon as though nothing had happened. Ben was too adept at seeing
through Joe’s claims to being ‘fine’. If Ben had been there, he would have
instantly seen that Joe was anything but fine. The simple fall had left Joe in
a great deal more pain than he thought he ought to be, but he tried to put it
out of his mind. He was miles from home and a township was relying on the help
he was bringing to them. His own comforts would have to come later.
Much later.
*******************
The arrival of the wagons
in the charred remains of Watson’s Crossing was greeted with joy and gratitude
by the people there. They had begun to salvage what they could from the fire,
and a few make-shift shelters had sprung up. It was too dark to unload much
from the wagons that night, but they handed out the food and blankets they had
brought and then set up their camp.
While Joe tended to his
horses, Jake set up the tent Joe had brought along. “You sure you’re all right,
Cartwright?” Jake asked, as Joe walked wearily over to the shelter. “You don’t
look so good.”
“I’m fine,” Joe assured
him. “I’m just wet, cold and tired, same as everyone else.” He looked at his
friend more closely. “You don’t look so hot yourself, Jake. You okay?”
“Like you said, cold, wet
and tired,” Jake replied. “I set your tent up for you. The lady over there at
the big fire says there’s gonna be food ready soon.”
“Great,” Joe responded, brightening.
He could use a hot meal, he thought. “I’ll just get changed, first,” he added,
looking at the lamentable state of his clothing. The mud had dried here and
there to an uncomfortable hardness, but most of Joe’s clothes were still wet.
Grabbing his saddlebags, Joe ducked into the tent.
Joining the rest of the men
by the cook fire once he was changed, Joe looked round at them. They all looked
tired out, but no one had been injured on their trek across the mountains. No
one but him, that was. Joe’s ribs and head were still aching and he counted
himself lucky that he didn’t have a concussion. Joe glanced over his shoulder,
but it was too dark to see them. He suspected that the mountains were well
coated with white by this time.
“Joe!” He glanced round and
a genuine smile lit his tired face as he saw
“I’ll be fine once I’ve had
something to eat,” he assured her, hoping that
“You eat,”
The meal was basic, but
tasty. Joe ate slowly, relishing the warmth. He was hungry. Coffee was served
after the meal and the men stood around, talking quietly as they drank it. Joe
soon drifted off to his tent to sleep. He was still shivery and cold, even
after the meal and hot drink. Sliding into his bedroll, Joe pulled his rain
slicker over the top of the blankets to add extra warmth. It hurt to breathe
when he lay down, and when he began to cough a while later, it hurt even more.
But eventually, Joe was
warm enough to fall asleep, although he woke frequently as he coughed painfully
through the night.
*****************
The hard work began the
next morning. The men broke their fast in the frosty air round the big cook
fire before starting to unload the wagons. Food stuffs were handed over to the
women. Lumber went in one pile and assorted supplies in another.
As he worked, Joe found
himself having to stop often to catch his breath after a coughing fit. Jake
came over. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“I’ve got a chill,” Joe
sniffed in reply. “Must have been that mud bath I had yesterday. I’m all
right.”
“Good,” Jake smiled, and
went back to his job. Joe wiped his nose on the back of his glove and carried
on moving lumber. His ribs screamed with the effort, but Joe refused to admit
he had a problem. Nobody apart from Jake asked him if he was all right, and
that suited Joe perfectly.
By the middle of the
afternoon, he and the other men were engaged in building the second ‘shanty’
type house. A family with two young babies had been given the first house, and
although it was tiny, it was dry and would soon be warm. Two men were nailing
tar paper to the outside.
The second house was
finished, but for the tar paper, by dusk. It had been dry all day, but now the
rain came on, just as cold, wet and sleety as it had been the previous couple of
days. Once again, a communal meal had been cooked and after it, everyone went
straight to bed. They had worked non-stop from daybreak and were tired.
As they ate supper, Joe at
last had a chance to talk to
“No,”
“All this help has given us
a real, boost, Joe,” Jack,
“That’s great!” Joe cried,
and to his horror, set off a bad coughing fit. Jack helpfully pounded Joe on
the back, which made his sore ribs hurt more than ever.
“Jack, stop it!”
“It’s just this cough,” Joe
replied, in a strained voice. “My muscles are sore from it.”
Troubled,
“Drop it, please,” Joe
begged. “I’ll be all right.” He met
As she headed off to sleep
that night,
Lying in his tent after
bidding
Exhaustion closed Joe’s
eyes that night but his sleep was shallow. When Jake came in and woke him at
dawn, he was just as tired as he had been the night before.
***************
Over the next three days,
the work continued. Watson’s Crossing hadn’t been a big township, and so they
were able to rebuild quite quickly. Although it would take some time for the
people to get the township back to where it had been before the fire, most of
them had had very few possessions to lose. They were also all pioneers and so
were determined to succeed. Most of them could not afford to return to the
East, where they had come from.
Seeing the girl’s wide
eyes, Joe dropped his gaze. “I’m sorry,” he added in a lower voice. “But don’t
you see,
“You really are the most
infuriating man I’ve ever met!”
“I dare say, but at least
I’ve got you a roof over your head,” Joe coaxed. “
“The last house is
standing!” came the cry and a cheer went up. The last house was indeed standing
and the men hurried to fix the tar paper.
“We can head for home
tomorrow,” Jake shouted at Joe, over the noise.
“Good!” Joe replied and
coughed.
For a moment, Jake eyed Joe
worriedly, for the other man looked dreadful. His face was pale and there were
dark circles under his eyes. Joe was grimy and unshaven and his clothes were so
filthy they could probably stand up themselves. But then… Jake glanced down at
himself. He was in no better condition. Joe surely had a bad cold, but everyone
was as tired and dirty as he was. No, Joe was all right, Jake was sure.
“Joe, which way should we
go back?” Jake asked, pulling Joe away from the noise a bit.
Stifling a wince, Joe
shrugged. “By the road, I’d say,” he replied. “The weather isn’t as bad as it
was when we came across, but it could still change without warning when we’re
up there. We aren’t in such a rush to get home, so let’s go by the road.”
“Guess you’re right,” Jake
allowed. “I’ll ask the others.”
“No, Jake,” Joe protested,
but he was too late. Jake had already moved off and was talking to the first of
the men. Joe sighed, then winced again, before breaking into another bout of
coughing. The men were all tired and wanted to get home to their families
again. Joe felt the same way, but he was experienced enough to know that when
winter showed signs of settling in this early, they should play it safe with
the return journey. But if everyone else wanted to go back the way they had
come, he would have to go with them, to make sure nothing untoward happened.
Sitting down heavily on a
log seat, Joe watched as Jake worked the crowd and knew that he would be
outnumbered. The others had all, to a man, pointed to the mountains. Closing
his eyes briefly, Joe wondered if he was up to another trip over the passes. He
hadn’t had a single minute without pain since his fall and was physically
exhausted. He had done his share and more of rebuilding Watson’s Crossing.
Jake bounced across to
Joe’s side and slapped him on the back. Joe bit his lip to stop the cry that
rose to his lips. Not noticing, Jake grinned. “The mountains it is, buddy!” he
carolled. “Everyone’s a mite keen to get home quick.”
“All right,” Joe responded,
almost inaudibly. He rose and went over
to his tent to try and sleep before starting the trek home.
*******************
The
Joe was able to snatch a
few minutes with
Looping her arm around
Jack’s waist,
“Yes,”
“I don’t know,” Jack
answered. “He did more work than everyone else. He helped with every house, you
know and didn’t hold back from doing the heavy lifting. Would he have done that
if he was hurt?”
“Yes, he probably would,”
“I could,” Jack replied.
“Why?”
“Because when you do, will
you wire
Seeing how worried his wife
was, Jack felt a sudden pang of unease at letting Joe go off. “Of course I
will,” he agreed.
******************
The journey up into the
mountains went much more quickly than coming down, since the wagons were now
empty and lighter. Joe had to remind them that the horses still needed to rest
regularly, even if they were going further between rests.
They had their
His appetite having
deteriorated as his cold progressed, Joe was first finished his lunch and began
leading the first of the wagons through. He took his own team first and led
them well clear of the pass before tethering them and going back for the next.
He got the next two wagons
through safely. Disaster struck with the third one. As Joe was gently leading
the horses through the narrow gap, one of the men, Ed Flannigan, whose team was
already through, turned and shouted, “Billy! I’ve left my canteen!”
The shout echoed from the
rocks round about and there was an ominous noise from above. One of the horses
snorted explosively and that echoed back at them like a gunshot.
The horse reared, dragging Joe
off the ground. He clung to the bridle desperately, knowing that if he let go
while off the ground, he would fall under the trampling hooves. The other horse
in the team was thrashing around in its traces and from the corner of his eye,
Joe saw Ed running towards him. The horse reared even higher and one of its
flailing hooves brushed the side of Joe’s body, knocking him away. Joe fell
heavily to the ground and rolled over and over down the side of the mountain
until he crashed into a tree a short way down the slope. The horse dropped to
the ground, thoroughly terrified, and bolted. Its harness-mate had no choice
but to go with it, but with the team being off balance, the wagon swung out
wildly, crushing Ed on the way past, before it dragged the team helplessly over
the edge of the mountain and they fell, screaming, to their deaths.
Pandemonium broke out.
Several of the men jumped down from their wagons and ran towards the scene of
the disaster. The horses, all spooked by the terror of their herd-mates, milled
about anxiously. None of the men were experienced enough to try and calm the
horses and within a short time, the remaining wagons on the Watson’s Crossing
side of the pass were reduced to little more than matchwood.
*****************
From a long way away, Joe
could hear someone calling his name. The voice seemed familiar, but Joe
couldn’t immediately place it. He tried to ignore the voice and sink into the
pain-free darkness where he had been, but he couldn’t manage it. Reluctantly,
Joe opened his eyes and a face swam into focus. “Jake?” he whispered.
“Are you all right, Joe?”
Jake asked, anxiously. He had pulled Joe up the side of the mountain with some
help from the other men, but he was at a loss to know what to do now.
“My head hurts some, but
I’m all right,” Joe assured him. He closed his eyes for a moment, to try and
overcome the pain that screamed down his left side. He could hear relieved
voices from all around and forced his eyes open again. “Help me up,” he
ordered, extending his right arm. Jake
pulled him up, looking at Joe anxiously all the time.
After a pause to catch his
breath and allow his head to stop swirling, Joe looked round. “What happened?”
he asked, appalled at the scene of devastation.
With a few short words,
Jake told the whole sorry tale. Joe looked at the splintered remains of the
wagons and then briefly at Ed’s body. He wanted nothing more than to sit down
and rest, miraculously finding himself at home, but looking at the faces around
him, Joe knew that he was still in charge.
“Bury Ed,” he ordered. “Get
those horses together. The men without wagons can ride them. Once Ed is buried,
we’ll go a bit further and make camp.” He turned slowly and walked away,
leaving the others with the chore of burying their friend.
Sitting down on the back of
his wagon, Joe gingerly felt down the left side of his body. The pain that was
coming from his arm almost made him sick and he feared that it was broken. As
well as that, feeling surreptitiously under his coat, Joe guessed that he had
broken ribs on that side and there was blood oozing from a cut by his armpit.
The muscles of his stomach were sore, too, but Joe didn’t know he’d fallen over
the edge, as he’d been unconscious at the time. He just knew that he was in bad
shape and there wasn’t anyone with him who could care for him, or any of the
others, for that matter. Jake knew the way home, but he was young and
inexperienced. They were all relying on Joe.
Taking a deep breath, Joe
vowed that he would get this wagon train from hell safely home.
*****************
When the shocked survivors
made camp later that day, Joe was exhausted from the pain. He delegated chores,
so that every man was busy and went and sat down against a tree, where he could
see all that was going on, yet rest at the same time. Jake seemed to have
realised that Joe wasn’t quite himself, but it still hadn’t occurred to him
that Joe was badly injured.
It was a long, cold, night.
The sleet returned with darkness and by about
Joe estimated it to be
about
The few lanterns they had
wouldn’t help with visibility and would just ruin their night vision, so Joe
didn’t bother lighting them. Jake led the way, with the two remaining wagons
between him and Joe. It was slow going, but better than freezing to death, Joe
thought. By the time dawn came, they had travelled about 8 miles, Joe guessed.
He was more than willing for them to stop and make some breakfast.
“Think we’ll make it home
today?” Jake asked, quietly as he handed Joe some coffee.
“We should do,” Joe
responded. He coughed heavily. “I’m tired of being cold and wet.”
He meant it as a joke, but
there was precious little for them to laugh at. Joe was glad he’d roused them
early, for the snow was almost as thick at the lower altitudes as it had been
at the higher ones. If he had waited those few hours till dawn, they would almost
certainly have died on the mountain. “Jake, next time you arrange this kind of
shindig, don’t invite me, huh?” Joe suggested.
“I’ll remember,” Jake
assured him. “But Joe, what if you volunteer?”
“Shoot me!” Joe told him
and they both smiled sadly.
“You’re hurt, ain’t you?”
Jake asked.
“I’m all right,” Joe lied.
“Let’s just work on getting everyone home.” As Jake went back over to the fire,
Joe reflected that Jake had grown up in the last 24 hours. They had all grown up in the last 24 hours.
********************
The journey went on. Joe
was now feeling light-headed and the throbbing pain from his arm was constant.
He could only hold the reins in his right hand, and it felt frozen. The snow
was wetter again, and pelted them like pellets. The air was so cold that it
sometimes felt like they were breathing in pure ice. It scalded their lungs and
set everyone to coughing, not just Joe.
At
Joe was past caring what
time it was when the wagons in front came to a halt. He looked up as Jake
appeared at his side. The other man was caked in snow all down his front, as
was Joe. “Joe, this is the turn off for the Ponderosa. Are you going that way
or coming back to town with us?”
“I’m going this way,” Joe
replied, hoarsely. “It’s quicker. I’ll probably be home long before you guys.
Can you manage from here?”
“We know the way,” Jake
nodded. As the other man began to turn his team, Jake added, “Joe? Thanks – for
everything. We wouldn’t have survived without you.”
Unsure what to say, Joe just
nodded and continued turning his team. Luckily for him, the team knew where
they were and were eager to turn away from their fellows. He glanced over his
shoulder and dimly though the pouring snow he saw the others move on.
Alone at last, Joe no longer
had to keep up a strong front. He slumped down in the seat and a low moan
escaped his lips. Joe didn’t think he could go another step along the way home,
but the horses were moving more swiftly now and Joe, one-handed, simply didn’t
have the strength to stop them.
By the time they arrived in
the yard, Joe was barely conscious.
******************
“Did I hear a wagon?” Ben
asked, looking up from his book.
“I think so,” Adam replied,
putting his book down. “It must be Joe, but he’s days earlier than I expected.”
“We’d better give him a
hand, he’ll be tired,” Ben suggested and together they went to the door.
Looking at the wagon, they
were stunned to see Joe slumping in the seat. As they hurried towards him, Hoss
came out of the barn and arrived at his brother’s side first. “Joe!” he
exclaimed and Joe slowly raised his head.
“Hi, Hoss,” he slurred.
“Get him inside,” Ben
ordered, seeing that Joe was soaking wet. He reached up to take Joe’s arm, but
Joe jerked back out of his father’s grasp and a cry of pain escaped him.
“Sorry,” Ben cried, not sure how he had hurt Joe, only knowing that he had.
“Carefully!”
Somehow, Adam and Hoss
manoeuvred Joe from the wagon seat and began to help him across the yard. Joe could hardly support his own weight, but
he valiantly did all he could to walk. Ben rousted a couple of hands from the
bunkhouse to see to the team and to ride to town for the doctor.
In the house, he found Hoss
carrying Joe upstairs, while Adam dropped Joe’s wet slicker and hat on the
floor by the credenza. “I’ll get some hot water,” he told Ben and vanished into
the kitchen. Ben hurried across the room and followed Hoss upstairs.
“He’s real cold, Pa,” Hoss
told Ben, as his father came into Joe’s room. “His clothes is soaked.”
Joe appeared to have sunk
into a kind of unconsciousness. Ben took the chance to strip his son’s wet,
filthy clothes off. As his gaze fell on Joe’s chest, he drew in a sharp breath.
Hoss had been rummaging for a nightshirt for Joe, but he turned quickly and he
too gasped. “What happened to him, Pa?” he cried.
“I don’t know,” Ben
replied, troubled. Joe’s stomach was black and blue with bruising. There was a
rusty blood stain down the left side of his chest, but the cut wasn’t bleeding
any longer. It was quite long and deep, but the edges were very clean. Ben
could now see that Joe’s left arm was broken just below the elbow. His son’s
legs were covered in cuts and bruises, too, but they were much more minor than
the injuries to Joe’s torso.
As Joe stirred back to
consciousness, he began to cough and the change of atmosphere made the cough
long, deep and painful. There was nothing Ben could do, except gently support
Joe until the spasms died down, then he offered him a drink from the glass Hoss
held out.
Since Adam had arrived with
some warm water, Ben took the chance to start bathing some of the mud from
Joe’s face. The water helped Joe clear his mind and he looked a bit brighter
for a few moments. “Hi, Pa,” he whispered. “It’s good to be home.”
“Can you tell us what
happened, Joe?” Ben asked.
Nodding, Joe told his story
in fits and starts, interrupted often by coughing fits. His voice was hoarse,
but he described the journey to Watson’s Crossing, their time there and the
hellish journey back in graphic detail. His family listened in silence, stunned
by Joe’s bravery in helping the others. Ed’s death shocked them, for he had
been a good man, and Adam briefly interrupted Joe’s story to ask why they
hadn’t brought the body home for his wife to bury.
Looking at Adam, Joe
replied, “It wasn’t something she’d have wanted to see.” Those calm words did
nothing to hide the horror that lay behind them. Adam swallowed. He was glad he
hadn’t been there to see that. He was sorry Joe had been there.
Taking another drink, Joe
whispered out the rest of his story. His voice was almost gone, his head ached,
and his body was sore all over. Joe just wanted to lie down and sleep.
“But what happened to you?”
Ben asked, gently. “Joe, you haven't told us how you ended up like this.” He
gestured to the injuries on his son’s body.
“On the way over, I got
knocked down by the team,” he explained. “I hurt my ribs, and banged my head.”
He indicted his right side, where there was some bruising. “Coming back, Ed
shouted, like I told you. The horse I was leading reared and pulled me off my
feet. Its hoof struck me and I fell. I don’t remember anything else.”
“One last question,” Ben
said, gently. “Joe, did you tell anyone you were hurt after the first fall?”
“No,” Joe responded. His
eyelids were drooping now. “There was too much work to be done. Those folks in
Watson’s Crossing needed our help. We didn’t have time for anyone to be sick.”
“What about
After a pause, Joe
admitted, “I told her I was fine.”
“Oh, Joe,” Ben sighed.
Before any of them could
say more, they heard hooves in the yard. Hoss went across to the window to
look. “It’s the doc,” he reported, relief in his voice. He headed over to the
door to go down and greet Paul Martin.
“Stay awake, Joe,” Ben chided.
“Paul needs to see you and then you can sleep.”
“I’m so tired,” Joe
whispered.
“When did you last sleep,
buddy?” Adam asked. “Properly, I mean.”
Focusing on Adam with
difficulty, Joe tried to think back. “The last night I was home, I guess,” he mumbled.
“It was too cold to sleep that first night, and I was too sore to sleep much
after that.”
“Eight nights,” Adam
breathed, appalled.
At that moment, Hoss came
in with Paul Martin, who hurried over to the bed. “Hello, Joe,” he greeted his
patient cheerfully. “I was hearing in town what a hero you are.”
“Who told you that?” Joe
asked, frowning.
“Jake Fox,” Paul replied,
looking into Joe’s eyes. “He told me how you helped everyone down the mountain
after Ed Flannigan died, and that was after you’d fallen over the edge
yourself! Joe, you were quite right to insist that they bury Ed up there. That
was no sight for his family to face.”
“I fell over the edge?” Joe
asked, more interested in that than the praise he was getting. “I don’t
remember that.”
“No, I wouldn’t have
thought you’d want to,” Paul remarked. “Jake said you landed against a tree.”
Paul moved the covers to look at Joe’s stomach. He gently felt all over, and
Joe winced several times. “You’ve been lucky, Joe,” Paul told him. “There’s no internal
bleeding. Mind you, if there had been, you’d have likely died by now, anyway.”
That raised a smile from
Joe, even if his family did exchange appalled glances. Ben was thankful he
hadn’t known that this was a possibility. He hadn’t realised how close he had
come to losing his youngest son.
His examination finally
complete, Paul sat back. “Joe, I’m going to give you something to make you
sleep while I set your arm and bandage your ribs. You’ve got broken ribs on
both sides. I would think, from what you’ve said, that you probably broke the
right side ones that first time you fell. You were lucky that you didn’t do
yourself any further damage while you were helping build all those houses.”
“We all built them,” Joe
muttered. His head was thumping and he just wanted to close his eyes. He didn’t
even blink as Paul gave him a painkilling injection and brought out the ether
mask. For the first time in his life, Joe did not fight as the drug carried him
off to sleep.
*****************
After his initial wakening
from the anaesthetic, Joe slept for almost 24 hours straight. The morphine
injection that Paul had given him kept him comfortable and Ben found he was
able to spoon the cough mixture Paul had left into Joe’s mouth while he was sleeping
and he swallowed it easily.
While Joe slept, the others
discussed what he had told them. “I don’t know why Joe didn’t tell them he was
hurt!” Ben exclaimed. He looked distressed.
“Well, aside from the fact
that he won’t admit it to us, never mind strangers, I think I can see why he
wouldn’t,” Adam replied.
“Go on,” Ben urged,
frowning.
“Well, think about it, Pa,”
Adam replied. “Apart from Jake, Joe didn’t know those other men. They were all
older than him, and all less experienced. It would have been hard enough for
Joe to convince them to accept his suggestions, or even downright orders,
without admitting that he was sick, too. Plus, they might just have panicked.
Up in that pass with an injured man, who could blame them?”
“Yes, I suppose,” Ben
agreed. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.” He rose to pace in front of the
fire. Adam and Hoss exchanged sympathetic glances. “But why wouldn’t he tell
“I don’t reckon that’s so
strange, Pa,” Hoss answered. “After all,
Sitting down again, Ben
reflected on his sons’ words. “Why didn’t I see that for myself?” he wondered
aloud.
“You’re jist too worried
about that scamp up there, I reckon,” Hoss told him. “Adam an’ me – we’re jist
hard-hearted.”
At these words, so patently
untrue, Ben and Adam let out a great guffaw of laughter. Hoss grinned,
delighted that he had been able to lighten the atmosphere.
********************
Having slept himself out on
his first day home, Joe was keen to get up and about, but Ben vetoed the plan.
In truth, when Joe got up for a few minutes to sit in a chair while Ben tidied
his bed, he was surprised at how weak he felt. The cough he’d developed was
still bothering him, although it had settled slightly. But with the tight
bandaging around his ribs, Joe sometimes felt as though he couldn’t get enough
air in.
“I don’t understand why I
feel like this,” Joe complained, as Ben helped him back to bed.
Finishing tucking the
covers in, Ben straightened and looked at Joe, an amused smile quirking his
lips. “You don’t?” he asked.
“I just said I don’t,” Joe
responded, a trifle crankily.
Drawing his chair closer,
Ben sat down. “Well, I’ll tell you, son,” he agreed. “You went 8 days without
proper sleep. That’s just for starters. During those eight days, you did a lot
of hard, physical labour, when you should have been resting. You had a bad
cough during that time, and broken ribs. You fell down the side of a mountain,
got cut by a horse’s hoof,” he touched Joe’s chest gently above the cut, “and
saw a man die. Plus you did all this in wet, cold weather. Now, what is it you
don’t understand again?”
“All right, I give in!” Joe
capitulated. “When you put it like that, I guess I can see why I feel so bad.”
Leaning his head back on the pillows, Joe asked, “Where are Adam and Hoss?”
“They went into town for
supplies,” Ben replied. “They should be back soon. Why?”
“I just wondered,” Joe
answered. “Pa, you aren’t mad at me, are you?”
“No, Joe, of course not,”
Ben answered. “Of course, I would have preferred that you didn’t push yourself
as hard, but I can see why you did it. No, Joe, I’m not mad at you. I’m proud
of you, son; so proud I could burst! Jake wasn’t joking when he said you were a
hero. Everything you did makes me proud of you.”
“Thanks, Pa,” Joe replied,
moved. “I just didn’t want you to be mad with me.”
******************
Later, Adam and Hoss came
up to join Joe and Ben. Adam silently handed Ben a wire, which Ben read quickly
once, then again more slowly. Joe began to look anxious. “What is it, Pa?” he
asked.
“It’s from
For a moment, Joe thought
his heart had stopped beating. “Nothing’s happened to them, has it?” he
enquired. “She hasn’t lost the baby?”
“No, she’s fine,” Ben
replied, a trifle absently. He put the wire down and looked at Joe. He squirmed
under the intensity of his father’s gaze, then realised that his brothers were
staring at him too.
“What is it?” he demanded.
“Why are you all looking at me like that?”
“Although
As Joe gaped blankly at Ben,
Adam took up the tale. “I saw the Mayor in town and he had already read the
wire. He asked me to pass on the news that you and the others are to be made
special citizens of
“But, but…” Joe stammered,
then fell silent again, not sure what to say.
Then Hoss took up the tale.
“Its gonna be in tomorrra’s Territorial
Enterprise, right plumb on the front page!”
“We only did what anyone
would have done,” Joe protested, finding his voice at last.
“That’s not the best of
it,” Adam added, and he could no longer hide his grin. “The others who went
with you were told the news, and they insist that the holiday be called ‘Joe
Cartwright Day’ in your honour.”
“Tell me you’re joking,”
Joe pleaded, in a barely audible whisper. “Please!”
Adam shrugged, still
grinning in that infuriating manner he sometimes had. Hoss, seeing the look on
Joe’s face, and remembering that he really wasn’t well, gave Adam a sharp did
in the ribs. “Tell him!” he insisted.
“No, they aren’t calling it
that,” Adam admitted. “But you should’ve seen the look on your face, buddy!” He
burst out laughing.
It took Joe a minute or so
to see the funny side of things, as his sense of humour was just as unwell as
its owner. However, he was soon giggling away, but gently, as laughing hurt.
“I sent a wire back,
letting
“Just wait!” Joe vowed.
********************
The next day, Adam
collected the paper from town and the headline read
The story had been told by
Jake Fox and the other men. The Cartwrights read it together and when they had finished,
Adam, Ben and Hoss all looked at Joe. They were all solemn and tears shone in
Joe’s eyes. For the other men had generously lauded Joe’s work and word had got
out that he had been more badly injured than he had let on. Adam’s teasing from
the day before had almost come true. Joe was a hero.
They were all silent for a
time. Then Joe spoke.
“I’m not a hero,” he
insisted. “We only did what anyone would do in a similar situation.”
“Say what ya like, Punkin,”
Hoss told him, as he reached over to give him a hug. “You’re a hero ta us!”
The End