Settling Up
Written by: Starlite
The strong muscular form of the horseman straightened his long legs in the
stirrups before him; he stood briefly in the saddle to survey his surroundings.
It had been a long dry hot summer. Reseating his body into the unforgiving
leather of the saddle, he stretched to ease the kinks in his tired back.
He raised his right hand to the brim of his broad black felt Stetson to take
the hat from his head, then drew his arm across his sweat-covered brow.
Squinting, the man winced as he glanced upward at the unmerciful sun with
the sweltering heat pouring down upon him. With his left hand, he withdrew
his handkerchief from his back pocket and attempted to dry the leather band
lining of his hat before replacing it securely upon his head. In annoyance
he futilely tried to pull his clingy shirt, that was soaked with perspiration,
free from his chest.
Deciding that he'd wasted enough of his time searching for strays along
this heat ravaged ridge. Adam Cartwright clucked aloud to his horse,
and using his toes, indicated the way home. A loud plaintive bleating
of a sad and frightened animal cut through the soundless sky. Giving
a disgruntled snort, Adam turned his horse back up the ridge towards the
direction of the cry.
Adam had an uneasy feeling as he rode slowly towards the clearing.
Before him, he saw a calf struggling to pull free from something that was
wrapped around the small hoof. Scanning the area, Adam warily dismounted
to approach the young cow. He felt the hair on the back of his neck
stand on end and experienced a deep chill course through his body even though
it was still oppressively hot. He sensed that he was being watched.
Always on guard, Adam pulled his rifle from its scabbard on the saddle before
approaching the young calf.
"Whatcha got yourself into little one." Talking aloud to the frightened
baby calf, Adam hoped to calm the animal so he could easily free its foot.
Crouching down Adam laid his rifle down beside him on the dry ground.
He was surprised to find a rope snuggly tied to the calf's foot. Pulling
on the rope, he discovered the other end secured to a stake that had been
embedded in the ground. Someone was using this calf as live bait in
a trap, Adam surmised. Surveying his surroundings once more and finding
nothing amiss, he returned his attention to freeing the youngster.
"Go find your Mama." Slapping the calf soundly upon its rear, Adam
instructed after he'd freed the calf from its bindings.
Normally he would have rounded the animal up and headed it down the hill
with him. But today a gut feeling told him he needed to get out of there,
and he needed to get out of there now. Reaching out he retrieved his
rifle, before he turned to stand.
Everything was a blur of activity and noise. He could hear the calf
as it scurried off for parts unknown, then he heard a rustling of dry leaves
to his right before Sport whinnied in terror drawing back to bolt down the
hillside in fright. Glancing over his right shoulder, Adam turned and
froze in horror. Looming before him to stand a good two feet over him
was the largest brown bear he'd ever seen.
Stepping back, Adam could feel the adrenaline course through his veins as
he swung the rifle towards the towering grizzly. He heard a low growl,
followed by the reverberating echo of a gunshot, before a deafening roar of
sudden fury and distress accompanied the sharp stinging of pain, when knifelike
long claws raked deeply across his upper body causing him to tumble backwards
onto the rock strewn sun-baked earth.
Unable to rise to his feet to escape, Adam rolled over onto his stomach,
trying to make his body as small a target as possible. Drawing his knees
under his chest, he protected his head with his arms and hands. He
gasped in pain enduring the crushing blow of the animal's weight upon his
back and knew the impact had just broken a couple of his ribs. Overwhelmed
by the intensifying agony of the blow and his body rapidly succumbing to
the numbing shock. Adam allowed his mind and body to surrender to the
coming darkness when he felt the sharp teeth tear into the flesh of his left
shoulder.
*************
Long fingers with dirt, encrusted under overgrown fingernails, carefully
traced the outline of the tracks upon the ground. Rising from his crouched
position, the man stood to his full height surveying the vista before him.
On a nearby pine, he noticed the sign of bark rubbed bare and on another deep
ruts caused by long sharp claws. He sensed from long years of
experience that his quarry was nearby. Eager for the hunt to be ended,
he rapidly descended the embankment following the distinct markings left
by a grizzly.
He stopped his descent and abruptly turned to face the setting sun at the
sound of three distinct shots ringing out. Disconcerted as to the source
or reason, he resumed his journey.
Reaching the clearing where he'd left his trap, he slowed his pace to study
the unmoving heap lying feet from him. Carefully he approached the inert
mass and discovered a man with clothing torn and body bloodied. Sighing
in discontent, he scanned the vicinity for his quarry. He figured the
attack had been interrupted by the sound of the shots when he found no trace
of the object of his search nearby.
Cradling his buffalo gun across his crossed arms, he approached the fallen
man. With a disaffected foot, he raised the battered body with the toes
of his soft skinned tan boot. Still breathing, he harrumphed removing
his foot allowing the injured man to fall back onto his face. He snorted
in response to the sound of a painful groan.
Disinterested in losing precious time in assisting someone who would die
on him anyway, the trapper turned his attention back to his trap with thoughts
only of his prey.
Seeing that his original bait was noticeably absent, the experienced hunter
spat upon the hard dry ground and surveyed his surroundings for the little
calf.
A low moaning once again drew the man's attention towards the body lying
prone upon the once dry earth now soaked red with blood. Recognizing
that the large predator now had a taste for human flesh and figuring that
the grizzly had only been momentarily interrupted, the trapper retrieved the
looped end of the rope.
Not wanting to chance a miraculous recovery and once again lose the lure
to his trap. He bent and rapidly secured the rope around the weakened
man's ankle. Once his task was complete, he located a nice secluded spot to
watch and wait for his quarry to return to finish its meal.
*************
Ben Cartwright looked over to his middle son from where he'd been unsuccessfully
hunting for strays. It had proven to be a most unfruitful day.
With the long dry summer many head of cattle had succumbed to the brutal heat,
and those that hadn't expired from the heat, had become a meal for many large
predators, which had come down from the mountains in search of food.
He was also very well aware of the bounty a few of the local ranchers had
placed upon the head of a grizzly that was terrorizing nearby ranches.
The Ponderosa patriarch hadn't supported his neighbors in the placing of
a bounty. Ben Cartwright held any man who hunted for money in low regard.
To him, these hunters would stop at nothing to achieve their means.
Whether they hunted man or beast, he felt that hunters of this nature were
motivated more by the thrill of the kill, and the bounty was just an added
bonus. In some ways, these hired hunters were far more dangerous than
what they hunted. Ben Cartwright had made his feelings on the matter
quite known to the Cattleman's Association, and had expressly forbid any hunting
on his land.
Hoss rode up to his father and shook his head sadly. He too hadn't
any luck in finding any live strays that day. All he'd found were a
couple of long dead carcasses, and one calf that looked to have been butchered
recently, maybe by some poacher. Pulling his canteen from his saddle
horn, he uncorked it and drew in several deep swallows.
Both men heard the approach of hooves from behind; Ben smiled as Little
Joe rode up to greet them. He could tell his youngest was nearly spent.
"Nothing Pa." Joe answered his father's unspoken question.
"Wonder if Adam's had any luck in them foothills?" Hoss pondered,
indicating the nearby hills with a jerk of his head.
Almost in answer to his question, Sport appeared on the horizon in a dead
run, headed for parts unknown. Quickly reacting, Joe spurred Cochise
into a gallop to capture the rider-less runaway horse. He'd just snagged
the bridle when a shot rang out across the sweltering sky.
Hoss saw his father's face drain of all color at the appearance of Adam's
horse, who was missing its owner. In response, he drew his rifle and
fired three shots into the air in the direction that Sport had come from,
praying for the expected reply.
All three solemn men waited patiently for the response, but none was forthcoming.
Without a word, they turned their horses and headed for the foothills.
Tracking the spooked horse's path was easy for an experienced tracker like
Hoss Cartwright. Within the hour he had located the clearing and the
body of his older brother.
Seeing the unmoving form of his eldest son, Ben quickly stepped down from
his horse. Swatting the animal out of the way, he ran to his son.
Joe had already jumped from his horse, and was kneeling beside his brother
with a hand gently resting upon the raven black hair on the back of his brother's
head. Seeing the severity of the wounds, he was afraid to touch or move
him further. Grabbing his canteen from the saddle, Hoss rapidly moved
to assist his father and brother.
Reaching his brother, Hoss winced at the sight of the deep wound on Adam's
shoulder. He watched while his father pulled a white handkerchief from
his hip pocket to clasp it over the fresh wound, still oozing with blood.
"Help me turn him over." Ben instructed moving one hand across his
son's broad back. "Easy." He commanded to his younger sons when
Adam groaned over the jostling.
Seeing the deep tears crossing his older brother's body, Hoss spoke to Adam's
unconscious form. "Geeze Adam, looks like you tangled with a grizzly."
"I think he did." Joe confirmed pointing to some tracks in the soft
dirt nearby.
The interchange between his younger sons was totally lost on Ben Cartwright,
whose full attention was drawn to his unconscious oldest son and his injuries.
Taking charge, he began to give the orders necessary to save his child.
"Joe, you ride for Doc Martin and meet us back at the house."
Little Joe was already on his feet running to do his father's bidding before
the elder Cartwright had finished his command. Tripping, he found his
body falling forward to sprawl face down upon the scorched earth. Looking
back, he found his foot ensnared in a taut rope.
Exasperated over his son's carelessness, Ben was about to reprimand his
youngest until he saw the cause of Joe's misfortune. He was horrified
to find his oldest son's foot bound and tied to a nearby stake, like he was
the decoy in a trap.
Hoss watched as Joe tripped and fell. He'd seen the rope just seconds
before his little brother stumbled, but was too late to issue a warning.
Rapidly Hoss rose and helped his brother to his feet, checking him for injuries.
Finding none, he released his brother's arm and returned his attention to
the rope. In a thunderous fury, Hoss reached down and tore the offending
stake from the ground freeing his older brother.
Eyes wide with alarm and surprise, Joe turned his attention back to his
father in shock. He too recognized that someone had used his brother
as bait in some type of bizarre trap. Fearful over Hoss's violence,
Joe waited until his father calmly indicated that he was to continue with
his journey to town.
"Hoss, Hoss you have to help me son. We have to get Adam home."
Ben spoke in a calm voice that belied his true emotions.
Blood pounded in the great man's ears and his fists clenched in rage.
Not hearing his father's voice, Hoss's eyes investigated the near underbrush.
Whoever it was, he felt would have to be nearby.
"Hoss, please son. I need you to help me." Ben again tried to
draw Hoss's attention back to assisting his eldest son.
Adam groaned and shifted position, trying feebly to push away the pressure
upon his wounded shoulder. Weakly, he tried to use his legs to adjust
his protesting body away from the searing pain.
The sound of his brother's suffering refocused Hoss back to Adam.
Kneeling beside his fallen brother, Hoss easily lifted his brother's limp
body into his massive arms. He carried his brother like a small baby
over to his horse and gently hefted him into the saddle. Waiting until
his father could hold Adam in place, so he could mount behind his brother,
Hoss once again searched the area and found nothing.
*************
Rising from his concealed location, long dirty fingers ran through equally
filthy stringy shoulder length hair. Stretching to ease the kinks caused
by the long length of time in a crouched position, the man gave a small grunt
of displeasure.
He had watched while his new lure was secreted away from his trap.
Realizing that his prey wouldn't return now that his meal had been removed.
The seasoned trapper went forward from the underbrush to search for clues.
Bending down, he retrieved the hastily discarded rope and stake from its
resting place on the ground. Looping the rope, he slung the restraint
over his shoulder. Moving closer to the underbrush, he spotted small
red stains scattered about. Given the direction of the splatters and
the height, the veteran hunter noted that the bear must have been injured.
Glancing about the clearing, he wouldn't waste anymore time in the nearby
vicinity. He instinctively knew that the hurt animal would only head
for one place now - home.
*************
Joe watched nervously while Hoss paced the large main room of the Ponderosa
ranch house like a caged wild animal. He grew more alarmed with each
lap the big man made.
With hands thrust deep into his front pockets, Hoss blindly strode across
the hardwood floor. His thoughts were black and full of rage over the
wounding of his brother. He could understand the bear's attack that
was just the animal's nature. What he couldn't comprehend was that another
human being had used his brother to draw the animal out.
"Don't worry Hoss, Adam's an ornery cuss. He'll be fine, you just
wait and see." Using Hoss's favorite phrase for describing their bossy
older brother, Joe hoped it would bring Hoss out of his agitated state.
His hopes were dashed, when Hoss seemed not to hear him and glared angrily
toward the stairs.
Hours seemed to draw out into days for the youngest Cartwright. Sitting
on the settee, he drew his legs up to his body placing his arms around his
knees, with only the sound of the ticking of the Grandfather clock and the
persistent sound of Hoss's footfalls to keep him company. Exasperated
and about at wits end, he was preparing to shout at his brother to stop the
endless pacing when he saw his father and the town doctor appear at the top
of the stairs. Not bothering to see if Hoss had noticed their arrival,
Joe jumped from the couch and sped to the foot of the stairs.
"How is he Pa?" Startled by Hoss's fearful voice, Joe nearly jumped
out of his skin. He'd never heard the big man approach to stand beside
him.
"He's going to be alright." Ben soothed placing a hand upon his big
son's shoulder and giving a slight squeeze.
"I'll stop by tomorrow." Doc Martin announced, "Night Ben," the doctor
moved from Ben's side at the bottom of the stairs. "Night boys."
He bid Ben's younger sons goodnight, then departed the ranch house.
Ben gave a small knowing smile, watching his sons anxiously turn hopeful
faces towards the direction of Adam's room upstairs.
"Why don't you go up and see him."
Nodding, Ben gave his permission for Hoss and Joe to visit their brother.
Ben watched a broadly grinning Joe as he slapped Hoss's broad belly excitedly,
then raced ahead of his big brother up the stairs. He also watched with
deep concerned etched upon his furrowed brow, when Hoss turned slowly to
lumber up the wooden walkway. Deep in thought, Ben followed his younger
sons up the stairs.
Hoss entered Adam's room hesitantly, he was still afraid for his brother's
life. He felt the fear dissipate when he saw the easy rise and fall
of his older brother's heavily bandaged shoulder and chest. His eyes
moved upward to study his brother's face. He felt a resurgence of rage
seeing Adam's wan complexion. His strong big hands clenched and unclenched
in unbridled fury when Adam moaned lowly in pain. A new sense of purpose
in his being, Hoss pushed past his father and departed his older brother's
bedroom. It was time for some settling up to be done.
In uncertainty over his big brother's sudden angry departure, Little Joe
looked to his father for guidance. Seeing the stunned and fearful look
upon his father's face, Joe turned back to the restless form of his oldest
brother.
Ben could sense that something was terribly wrong with his middle son.
Hoss was normally the easy go lucky one in the family, but when pushed or
if one of his family was threatened like Adam was now, he turned into a man
even his father didn't know. Ben turned to go after his child when his
attention was drawn back to his oldest one. Adam groaned loudly and
futilely bent his right leg trying to use his foot to push his battered body
away from his torment. Torn between two sons, who both needed him,
Ben's heart sank as he heard the front door slam. He knew that Hoss
would just have to handle this one on his own.
*************
Hoss stalked out of the house into the warm autumn evening. His boots
pounded upon the wooden planking to match the beating of his angry heart.
Reaching the barn, he tossed down his hastily acquired gun belt, jacket and
bedroll. He paused only long enough to light a lantern and locate his
mount. Retrieving Chubb's gear from his sawhorse, Hoss went to work
saddling his horse. Once satisfied that the saddle was secure, Hoss
bent to retrieve his gun belt and deftly fasten it about his waist letting
it easily slide to his hips. Reaching down, he gathered up his bedroll
and jacket and approached his waiting gelding. Without preamble, Hoss
easily tied the items to the back of the saddle before mounting. Once
secure in the broad leather seat, he leaned over and checked the scabbard
for the hunting rifle he'd left there. Seeing it was at his ready, Hoss
clicked to his horse while pulling the reins to lead the horse from the barn.
Reaching the yard, Hoss paused looking up to survey the late night sky.
Not noticing the grandeur of the stars that twinkled down upon him like diamonds
resting on black velvet cloth, nor the deeply etched face of worry that studied
him. Hoss's eyes were only for the clear sky and the brightly shining
moon that would help guide his way. Kicking his steed into a loping
trot, Hoss departed the Ponderosa grounds, heading back to the site of his
brother's grisly attack.
Standing by the window of Adam's room that overlooked the yard below, Ben
clutched the lace curtain absently in his hand while observing his middle
son's departure. Feeling older than his years, Ben's head bowed in silent
prayer for his aggrieved son as he watched him ride from the yard. He
knew Hoss would have to find his own peace, and that he would have to grant
him the freedom to fight his demons if Hoss was ever to return home.
Releasing the cloth, Ben allowed it to lazily fall back into place over the
windowpane, once more obscuring the night skyline. Turning his back
to the window, Ben walked slowly to his firstborn's bedside to resume his
long vigil.
*************
Hoss rode the long distance in silence with only the sound of an occasional
hoot owl or chirping of crickets to keep him company. He stopped his
mount just short of the foothills, near the same locale that Sport had found
them that day. Dismounting, Hoss made camp, he would wait for daylight
before heading up into the hills to begin his search. After making a
campfire for heat and light, Hoss settled his large frame onto the hard dry
earth. Lying down, he tried to rest and found that sleep would not
be forthcoming this night.
At first light, Hoss arose and broke camp by dousing his campfire then re-saddling
his horse. Turning, he easily hefted his massive body onto the broad
leather saddle, and directed his mount toward the foothills.
Upon reaching the clearing, where he and his family had discovered his brother
the day before, Hoss briefly contemplated his next move before alighting from
his horse. Dropping the reins, he began to investigate the location.
Carefully, so not to disturb the signs, Hoss kept a studious eye upon the
dry ground. He cringed inwardly finding the spot where the arid dirt
had eagerly soaked up his brother's spilt blood. Crouching, he tenderly
ran his strong fingers over the area, as though he could somehow reach through
to his brother with his gentle touch.
His eye caught another form, an outline near where his brother had laid
prone. It was a footprint clearly pressed into the bloody ground.
Looking closer, Hoss knew the print didn't belong to either of his brothers
or father, because it wasn't from the type of boots that a rancher would
wear. This print came from a soft leather sole of a moccasin, like
the local Indians wore.
Finding that someone had been there around the time when his brother was
attacked, and that someone had left him to die. Hoss felt his blood
begin to boil and strangled an impending frustrated roar. He took several
deep breaths before clenching his jaw. He needed to maintain control
of his emotions if he intended to discover whoever it was. Shaking his
head in disbelief, Hoss went back to task at hand. Sometimes he couldn't
understand man's inhumanity to man.
Looking about, Hoss realized something was out of place. The rope
and stake that he'd torn from the ground was missing. He'd remembered
tearing the offending objects from the ground then discarding them, but now
he found them nowhere nearby. He scanned the clearing, and found nothing,
he nodded his head in understanding. They'd been reclaimed by their
less than illustrious owner.
Following the pattern of the soft boots, Hoss made his way nearer to the
underbrush where he spotted several recently broken branches. He snorted
in derision, the feeling he'd had the previous day was correct. They
had been watched. He found the trail he was to follow.
Returning to his horse, Hoss continued to eye each dry branch and leaf closely.
He easily discovered the spot where the bear had made his entrance.
Glancing down, he saw a small trickle of red splattered on the brown leaves.
Recalling the sound of a rifle firing just minutes before his horse appeared,
Hoss realized that Adam must have wounded the grizzly. From long experience,
Hoss knew an injured animal was the most dangerous of all.
*************
Stopping momentarily, the man stopped to rake his nails across his chest
at an irritating itch. The soft tan suede he wore was now covered in
layers of dirt and stained with sweat from long days on the trail. He
paused to take a slip of water from the oilskin pouch he carried. Returning
the small stopper, he slung the strap over his shoulder before resuming his
long climb into the mountains.
His adversary thus far had been quite elusive given its massive size.
Now that the footing turned more to rock instead of soft ground, the trailing
of the beast was becoming more complex.
The hunter gave silent condemnation and thanks to the man who had stumbled
onto the bear trap. Though the man had ruined his ambush by freeing
the calf. He at least had the good graces to wound the animal, thereby
leaving a nice simple trail to follow.
Snorting in bitter amusement, the man cursed silently as the persistent
itch returned. Scratching the annoyance, the man squinted upward at
the heat that radiated off the early morning sun.
*************
Hoss held tightly onto Chubb's rein while walking on foot before him.
He wanted to keep his eyes focused solely on the trail before him. He
easily spotted the soft boot prints while they made their way from the lower
foothills, gradually climbing up to the rockier terrain. He noticed
that the footprints followed another set of prints, those of a grizzly.
A very large wounded grizzly.
A loud grumbling stopped him momentarily. Looking down, he patted
his broad belly. In his hasty departure, he'd neglected to pack provisions.
Being a well-experienced woodsman, Hoss in no time easily spotted breakfast.
Reaching out, he retrieved a handful of wild berries from a nearby bush and
shoved them into his mouth.
*************
The sun now directly overhead, the fatigued man slumped onto a fallen tree.
He could've sworn that this day was even hotter than the day before.
Pulling the strap from about his neck, he brought the provision bag from behind
his back to rest upon his hip.
His lip curled into a sneer of disgust when he looked at the hardtack he
found within. Feeling that his stomach needed something more nourishing
to maintain this pace, he recalled a small stream he had crossed awhile back.
Deciding that fresh fish ought to do the trick, the trapper doubled back.
Hours later, now feeling revitalized and refreshed from a filling meal of
fresh trout. The man resumed his trek.
*************
Hoss could go no further, the oppressive heat combined with a lack of nourishing
food and sleep, sapped him of his normally robust energy. Knowing he
needed to make camp before sunset, Hoss scanned the horizon for familiar sights.
Realizing he wasn't far from a gentle stream, Hoss mounted his horse and
pointed him in the direction of the small creek, praying that it hadn't run
dry.
Hoss's prayers were answered when he found the stream gently flowing.
Leading his horse to the water to drink its fill, Hoss quickly began to set
up camp.
The eager grumbling of his large stomach urged the cooking fish to quickly
finish. Hoss pulled the stick closer to his face and inhaled the intoxicating
aroma of the sizzling trout impaled upon a stick. His mouth watered
in anticipation, only a couple more minutes.
Once finished with his meal, Hoss watched the awe-inspiring beauty of the
setting sun. Its rays formed golden spires, which jutted out into the
soft expanse of pastel muted hues ranging from soft yellow to shades of pale
pink, to lavender then to darkening shades of blue. Normally, Hoss would've
stopped to appreciate the wondrous gift that Mother Nature artistically painted
upon the horizon, but tonight he was lost in solemn solitary thoughts concerning
the condition of his brother, and the purpose of his pilgrimage.
*************
After eating his fill of fish for that day, the man laid his weary body
out onto a bed of pine needles and nibbled on the dried biscuit in his hand.
Glancing upwards, he studied the night sky. This journey had been long,
and so far unfruitful, but he relished the challenge.
He'd hunted grizzlies many times in the past, but few had vexed him like
this one. This one seemed to possess a rare intelligence. It knew
when and where to strike, and unlike most of its kind, it also knew when
to retreat.
Yes, this one was a challenge, but he favored a real challenge. It
made the kill all that much more exciting. He found it invigorating
to best a real competitor.
Throwing another small log onto the fire, he rolled over to his side.
Tomorrow would be another long and hopefully more fruitful day.
*************
Hoss awoke with the rising sun and grunted while attempting to shade his
eyes from its penetrating brightness. Getting to his feet from the hard
ground, he stretched and groaned aloud when his stomach alerted him to its
presence.
Deciding that trout would make yet another tasty meal, Hoss planted his
ten-gallon hat upon his head then made his way down to the stream.
Stomach full, horse watered and fed on dry grass. Hoss saddled his
horse and broke camp. Mounting, Hoss encouraged his horse to crossover
the nearby stream.
Looking down, Hoss scanned the dry grass for the familiar trail of soft
footfalls. Frustrated he wanted to swear out loud, as the trail seemed
to end just past the crossing of the stream.
*************
Patience the hunter preached to himself. He could sense his foe was
close by. He knew haste would just result in unfortunate consequences
that could cost him more than just the loss of his quarry once again.
He couldn't rush things now, so close to the end of the hunt.
His eyes looked up to scan the sheer mountain cliffs and spotted several
promising possible locales for caves, where a bear might just take up winter
residence. Knowing he had to proceed with caution and not just rush
into the proverbial lion's den, he sat down on the hard ground to formulate
a plan.
*************
Hoss doubled back to the stream for the seventh time that day, he was certain
that he was just missing a small clue. Now back on foot, he studied
every minute portion of the landscape for a clue that would put him back on
track.
He could feel his mounting frustration interfering with his ability to keep
his mind and eyes focused on the task at hand. Deciding he needed to
take a break, he retrieved his horse from where it was grazing nearby, and
walked back towards the small stream.
Bending down, he dipped his massive hands into the cool refreshing water
and splashed the liquid across his rotund face. Cupping his hands he
reached once again into the stream, filling them he moved his hands to the
back of his neck allowing the water to cool his neck.
Pulling his dirty white hat from his head, he wet the inside brim.
Resettling the hat back upon its familiar spot, Hoss glanced over at that
ground beside him and discovered the start of a new trail with a very familiar
print.
*************
The hunter woke happily the next morning. His plan had solidified
during his sleep the night before. He now knew how to get the grizzly
to come to him, instead of him going into the caves to find the grizzly.
He knew it was still too early for the animal to go into winter hibernation.
With it being injured, it was definitely in need of nourishment. He
would need to find a suitable spot as close to its home as possible, then
bait another trap. Only this time, he would not leave anything to chance
and would wait for his prey to come to him.
Hefting the heavy rope replete with metal spike over his shoulder, he headed
upwards toward the rocky face of the mountain.
*************
Rising early, Hoss redoubled his efforts to make up for the loss of time
the day before. He mentally chastised himself for his lack of perception
that had cost him so much. Though he knew the man he tracked wouldn't
leave the vicinity until his job was complete, Hoss couldn't risk the chance
of losing him. Not now, not when he could feel that he was so close.
Stepping down from his horse, Hoss checked the ground near his feet.
He would not jeopardize losing the trail again. He was gratified to
find the soft footprints lazily following the large animal prints.
Walking for a couple of hours, Hoss came upon a bed of pine and a small
pit that had been used for a campfire. Reaching out, he felt the ashes.
He was disheartened to find them long cold. Instinctively knowing he
needed to redouble his efforts, Hoss went back and remounted Chubb.
*************
Spending the morning inspecting the mountain region for traces of his prey.
The hunter found ample evidence of a clear path the animal had created between
its den and the mouth of the clear water stream. Following the trail
to the mountain face, the hunter found the perfect place to setup his trap.
Easily scaling the small boulder, the man wedged his body into the crevice
between the rock and the stone face of the mountainside. He carefully
positioned his body, so that he was downwind of the current wind patterns.
From this vantage point, he had a perfect view and a clear shot of the trap
he'd set. Now all he had to do was watch and wait.
*************
Mid-afternoon Hoss stumbled onto another camp, though clearly it too had
been discarded, he could tell its use had been more recent. Suspecting
it was the camp his object of his search had used the night before; Hoss quickened
his pace.
He was mounting Chubb when he noticed even more fresh tracks than the ones
he'd been using. The grizzly had traveled through there recently without
its persistent pursuer.
A new thought entered the large Cartwright's mind, instead of trailing the
hunter while it hunted its' prey. Why not follow the prey, as it found
its' hunter?
*************
Dusk started to descend across the majestic mountains. The man pulled
at his shirtfront moving it closer across his chest. He scratched at
the almost constant irritation upon the front of his breast.
He sniffed the air as a strong breeze picked up, causing dirt, dried pine
needles and leaves to swirl nearby. Riding along the wind, he detected
the gentle hint of rain and knew he was in for a long wet night.
Shifting his position for the fourth time in the last hour, he adjusted
his frame to settle better into the rock face. He hoped that he bagged
this bear before the heavens opened up, to wash him from the face of the earth.
*************
Hoss carefully dismounted his horse and tied the animal to a nearby tree.
He patted the animal soothingly and smiled a brief small gap toothed grin
in appreciation of his horse's ability not to spook so close to a natural
predator.
Moments ago, Hoss had spotted a large brown object moving lazily among the
pines. Mindful to stay downwind of the animal, Hoss followed the great
carnivore on foot.
Hoss spared only momentary glances to his feet and the ground nearby looking
for anything that might snap or alert the lumbering beast to his presence.
He froze when he noticed the bear stop and look lazily into the rising wind.
Following suit, Hoss realized what the animal had discovered. Looking
to the distant horizon, he could see the arrival of an impending storm and
knew it would be a gully washer.
*************
The man raised a weary hand to the hole-infested hat that sat atop his head.
Giving it a strong pull, he hoped to secure it to the top of his head.
Glancing off into the distance and then overhead, he estimated the arrival
of the storm to occur at any time in the near future. Sniffing at the
arm before his face where his rifle rested at the ready, he figured the rain
might just do him some good.
His attention was drawn abruptly back to a nearby grove of pine trees, when
he heard a deep growl.
*************
Hoss stopped and watched as the bear neared a small stand of trees.
He was awed by the obvious intelligence of the animal, while it seemed to
investigate the area before proceeding. He held his breath in anticipation,
hoping the forming storm hadn't alerted the beast to his presence. Closing
his eyes, Hoss wiped the sweat that had formed upon his brow when he saw
the animal move forward once more, still seemingly oblivious to his follower.
Hoss had just reached the edge of the trees when a shot rang out somewhere
close. Instinctively, he jumped back behind one of the pines then crouched
low looking for the source.
His heart sank a little at the sight of the large bear now lying motionless
upon the rocky terrain. As a rancher, Hoss knew that the bear was a
threat to his livestock, but as a lover of animals, he regretted the loss
of such a magnificent beast. His eyes were alerted to the presence of
something new when he saw movement from a nearby boulder.
Waiting, he watched as a man appeared from behind the large rock and made
his way slowly to the still form. Hoss observed the man approaching
and studying the bear for signs of life before laying his rifle upon the rocky
ground. Hoss noticed as the man drew a long silver bladed hunting knife
from its sheath on the man's belt while he approached the dead grizzly.
Deciding it was time to make his presence known, Hoss rose from his secluded
position. Stepping forward, Hoss drew his gun from its holster.
"Hold it right there."
Stunned, the man turned to the voice that seemed to come from nowhere.
His mouth formed a small smirk as he recognized the large framed man from
a night almost a week before. He held out his hands in acquiescence,
he was certain that he was unknown to the man that faced him.
Hoss instantly knew he didn't like the man that now stood before him.
Something about him caused the little hairs on the back of his neck to stand
on end. His rotted tooth grin did nothing to ease Hoss's feeling of
unease.
Hoss appraised the man that stood before him. He was a tall man, about
his height but not of his stature. The man's build was leaner much more
similar to that of Adam's but broader at the hip. He wore clothes of soft
suede leather similar to those worn by Indians thereabouts, but he was definitely
not of Indian descent. His hair was worn long and hung in stringy dirty
strands down to his shoulders. The face was narrow and led down to
a prominent chin that was covered by a matted filthy beard in desperate need
of a trim. The nose was broad and misshapen with the tip jutting unnaturally
to the right side, obviously broken at some point in the man's past. But
the eyes were what caught Hoss's attention the most; they were hard, cold
and callous in the color of dull gray steel.
"You're trespassing on Cartwright land." Hoss lauded, wary of his
opponent's next move.
"Am I? I'm real sorry there fella, I didn't know. Guess I just
got all caught up in the hunt." The hunter replied, carefully planning
his next move.
He'd been surprised when the big man had appeared from the trees.
He suspected that the big man with the tan leather vest and off white ten-gallon
hat was trying to steal his kill. He worked too long and too hard to
give his bounty to anyone.
"Yeah, you was so 'caught up' you left my brother to die." Hoss's
eyes narrowed in anger when he spotted the small red stain of dried blood
on the toes of the man's right boot.
The hunter knew he'd been discovered and realized he needed to do something
quickly. His immediate prayers were answered when a flash of lightening
danced across the rapidly darkening sky drawing his opponent's attention.
He flung the knife he still possessed in the direction of the big man, then
charged forward.
Hoss was momentarily caught off guard by the bright flash of light; he'd
lost all track of the storm. His attention returned at the sound of
the ear splitting crack of thunder rolling through the mountains. He
barely had time to duck to the right to move away from the blade as it sailed
toward his body. He was not quick enough to avoid the onslaught of the
other man's body as he was stuck full force by the weight of the charging
man.
Hoss felt his body fall back and landed hard on the rocky ground.
He sensed the air rush from his lungs. Reaching up, he roughly grabbed
his enemy's upper arms and easily tossed the man away.
Rolling gracefully to his feet like a cat, the hunter circled his new prey.
Stealthily, he moved to his right and gauged the big man's reactions.
He was surprised that the big man seemed so lithe upon his feet. Roaring
loudly to startle his opponent, he lunged for the man again.
Hoss was better prepared for the attack the second time and when the man
neared; he balled a solid rock hard fist and swung. His clenched hand
met strong jaw soundly and the stringy hair seemed to fly as the head jerked
backward. Feeling he'd dealt a stunning blow, Hoss was unprepared for
the rapid response and found his head snapping back from a rocking punch to
his left cheek. Chastising himself for not anticipating such a sudden
response, Hoss vowed not to make the same mistake twice.
Taking the offensive, Hoss charged toward the man as the heavens opened
up and the rain began to flow. Hoss delivered an uppercut to the man's
jaw followed by a jab to the ribcage. Hoss stumbled backward when he
felt a backhand reach his mid-section.
Hoss charged forward again, while a clap of thunder accompanied a flash
of light when lightening crawled in frightening fingers across the dark evening
sky. He felt hands roughly push him aside and fell heavily upon the
downed bear. Resting briefly on one knee, Hoss bided his time for the
next assault.
Grinning, the straggly man charged at his opponent who now seemed too slow
for his liking. He knew the man had enough strength to win, but he also
knew how to fight to always succeed. Anticipating that his foe would
rise as he neared, the man shifted his weight at the last minute to his legs
and lowered his right shoulder plowing soundly into the broad midsection.
He continued his push, driving the big man hard against the jagged boulder
he'd used earlier to conceal his presence.
Hoss gasped in pain and surprise, he felt the air rush from his lungs when
his back crashed into the jutting edges of the boulder. He hadn't foreseen
the impending impact. As the blood rushed into his head, his fury returned
in full force. He felt strong hands with sharp long nails reach up to
encircle his throat. Reaching up, he grabbed the bony wrists trying
to dislodge the hands and found he was unable to break the strangling grip.
Another bolt of lightening jutted across the sky before thunder rumbled
through the nearby forest. The bright flash cast eerie light upon the
faces of the combatants. Hoss saw the distorted demented face in a
smug sneer while he gasped to regain his breath.
Struggling to push away his attacker, Hoss watched as beads of sweat intermingled
with rivulets of rain started to run down his foe's dirty face. The
stringy hair and beard now dripping wet, while another crack of thunder reverberated
around them.
Hoss lowered his hands from the ones clutching at his throat. He knew
he would not be able to free himself from the death grip he found there.
Using his strong arms, he encircled the other man's body that leaned against
him. Tightly clasping his left wrist with his right hand, he tensed
the muscles of his massive arms and squeezed with all his might.
Stunned the hunter gasped at the sudden crushing blow. Moving his
hands from the big man's throat, he futilely tried to shove the powerful
arms away. Another bolt of lightening accentuated the horrible face,
this time distorted by pain and fear as it gasped for air.
Hoss looked up to the heavens and closed his eyes letting the refreshing
rain cool his heated brow. Jerking the body that was clutched tightly to his
broad barreled chest upwards, he willed his arms to tighten further.
Concentrating on his exertions, Hoss took no notice of the tendrils of light
dancing upon the dark sky, nor the thunder now moving further into the distance.
The bright flash of light illuminated the broad square determined face of
his foe whose eyes were clenched tight in response to the straining of overworked
muscles. Gasping for air and feeling the cracking of bone, the hunter
once again returned his hands to his opponent's face. This time pushing
with both palms into the rock solid jaw hoping to regain some advantage.
Finding no respite, the man lowered his head and bared his teeth.
Sensing the man's awkward adjustment, Hoss minimally opened his eyes.
Seeing the horrid face of his enemy nearing his exposed neck, Hoss thrust
his own head in a sweeping motion from right to left.
The crashing blow to his left temple caused the hunter's head to jerk back,
with his eyes rolling into the back of his head. No longer able to provide
resistance, his back arched backward, his body limp.
Hoss gave one final jolt to his enemy's body, then released the still form
to fall motionless upon the now muddy earth.
*************
Sitting on the porch, Adam glanced up from the book he was reading at the
sound of an approaching horse. Though looking the worse for wear, Adam
easily recognized the rider. Clutching at his injured ribs with his
right hand, Adam carefully rose to greet his dearly missed younger brother.
Ben Cartwright reached into the right pouch of his leather vest and withdrew
his pocket watch. Flipping it open, he checked the time and decided
that Adam had been outside long enough. Not wanting his son to overdo
on his first day out of bed, Ben rose from the desk and made his way to the
front door. He was not pleased to find his oldest child slowly walking
into the yard after he'd given him firm instructions not to leave the confines
of the porch.
"Just where do you think you're going?" Ben demanded in a tone that
stopped Adam in his tracks. For the first time in a long time, he saw
a broad smile that accented the dimples upon the young man's face. It
was a smile Ben wished that Adam used more often, for it was clear indication
of absolute joy written upon his firstborn's face.
"Hoss is home."
Hearing the approach of a horse, Little Joe abandoned his chores and strode
into the yard to investigate. He whooped loudly and ran over to greet
his older brother. He could hardly contain his excitement waiting for
his brother to dismount. As soon as Hoss's feet were firmly planted
upon the ground, Joe practically jumped into the massive arms slapping his
big brother soundly upon the back.
Hoss's unshaven face flushed with embarrassment from his younger brother's
ostentatious display. He turned to find his father facing him, his ebony
eyes peering deep into his own as though they were searching his soul.
Nodding, Hoss answered his father's unspoken question.
Ben visually took inventory of his son's bruises before gazing deeply into
his son's crystal blue eyes that now sparkled with unspent tears. Quietly,
he drew his middle son to his chest in a warm embrace. All that mattered,
was his child was home and he'd found his peace.
Looking up from his father's comforting grasp, he saw the slow painful approach
of his older brother. Easing his body from his father, Hoss shortened
the distance between him and his injured sibling.
Little Joe started to walk forward to join his brothers when he felt a restraining
hand placed upon his forearm. Glancing down, he found his father's hand
gently holding his arm. Raising his pondering hazel green eyes, he
saw dark ebony ones dip in the direction of Hoss and Adam. With a slight
lift of the eyebrows, Ben indicated to his youngest to give his older sons
a moment alone.
Hoss neared his older brother whose left arm was still firmly strapped to
a chest heavily swathed in bandages. He had to fight the urge to grab
Adam into his arms and hug him like Joe had done moments ago. He settled
instead for reaching out with his heart through a broad toothed gapped smile.
"Well ain't you a sight for sore eyes."
"Yeah, and they look mighty sore to me." Adam playfully gibed raising
his right hand to poke gently at the bruise adorning Hoss's left cheek.
To Adam his brother looked haggard and tired, somewhat lacking of his normal
cherub like innocence.
Hoss gave a shy smile and shrugged his shoulders in his customary 'it ain't
nothing' way.
"Welcome home, Hoss." Unable to speak above a whisper as emotions
started to choke his throat. Words seemed so inadequate to Adam.
He could only imagine the sacrifice his brother had made on his behalf.
Hoss carefully placed his meaty hand to the back of Adam's neck and gave
a small affectionate squeeze. Gently Hoss pulled Adam close, careful
of his injuries, then turning both men headed for the open doorway.
Watching his brothers depart, Joe looked back to his father and saw tears
dancing in the older man's eyes. Reaching out, he clasped his Pa on
the shoulder.
Glancing down to his son, Ben placed his arm across the young man's shoulders
and gave a small squeeze. Together they followed Adam and Hoss into
the massive ranch house.
The End
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