By Sarah Hendess
Utah Territory
July 1850
Little Joe gazed out the front window and sighed.
“It’s been rainin’ forever!” the eight-year-old whined as he stamped his foot. “I ain’t been outside in so long I can’t even remember what outside looks like!”
Josie Cartwright rolled her eyes at her cousin. “We played outside all day yesterday, Joe. Come on, let’s play checkers.”
Joe glared at Josie over his shoulder. “I’m sick of checkers,” he pouted.
“How about Hide and Seek?”
Little Joe grinned. He loved Hide and Seek, but his brothers never played the game with him anymore. Freshly home from college, Adam was busy all the time building a big new house for the family, and now that Hoss was fourteen, he, too, was caught up with ranch work and didn’t have much time for his baby brother. Joe was glad his cousin Josie was visiting from Washington City for the summer. She was a good playmate – even for a girl. She was only a year and a half older than him, and she didn’t mind getting dirty.
“Now you’re talkin! I get to hide first!”
Josie frowned. “I’ll flip you for it.”
“Fine.”
Josie dug a penny out of her pocket and tossed it in the air.
“Heads!” Joe shouted.
The coin plinked onto the wood floor, and the cousins nearly knocked heads as they bent down to see which side was up.
“Ha! Tails! I win!” Josie crowed. “You’re ‘It!’ Close your eyes and count to fifty. And no peeking!”
Little Joe flopped face-down on the sofa and started counting. He didn’t peek, but he did listen carefully, like Adam had taught him. Josie’s footsteps pattered down the hall. She was headed for the boys’ bedroom.
“No good hiding spots in there, Josie,” Little Joe giggled softly. The bedroom he shared with his two brothers had barely enough space for a set of bunk beds, one free-standing bed, and two tiny wardrobes. The room was fine for two kids – Josie had been sharing it with Joe while she and her parents were visiting – and even when it was Little Joe and Hoss in there together, like it had been the past three years while Adam was at college, it was ok. But once Adam and Hoss came back in from the bunkhouse where they’d been staying during the eastern Cartwrights’ visit, it was going to get awfully crammed. Much as he wished Adam would pay more attention to him, Little Joe was glad his oldest brother was building a new house.
There was no more rustling anywhere in the house, so Little Joe sped up his counting, knowing that Josie must already be tucked away somewhere.
“Forty-eight, forty-nine, FIFTY!” he hollered. He popped off the sofa and scampered down the hall, screeching to a halt outside his open bedroom door. He hovered in the doorway, barely breathing, as his ears strained for signs of his cousin. She was too smart to hide somewhere as obvious as underneath a bed, so Joe tiptoed to his and Adam’s wardrobe and flung the door open.
No Josie.
He shoved aside his and Adam’s clothes and waved his hands around, just to be sure, but apart from the clothing, the wardrobe was empty. He checked Hoss’s next, but it, too, was devoid of cousins. Thinking that Josie must have tiptoed into his father’s room, Little Joe turned to leave when a slight movement, no more than a flutter, caught his eye. He whirled back around and fixed his gaze on his bottom bunk. Hop Sing was forever chastising him for not making his bed properly, but the covers were awfully lumpy, even by Joe’s standards. And they were breathing. He tiptoed over, holding his own breath.
“GOT YOU!” he shouted as he ripped back the covers.
Josie shrieked in surprise before dissolving into giggles.
“All right,” she said. “My turn to count.”
The children raced each other back to the living room, where Josie buried her face in the sofa cushions and started counting. In case she knew the trick about listening for footsteps, Little Joe took off down the hallway toward the bedrooms again, and then doubled back on tiptoe and slipped into the kitchen. Hop Sing had gone outside a few moments ago to feed the chickens, so Joe zipped into the pantry undetected. He tucked himself under the bottom shelf and scooted back against the wall, pulling a large sack of potatoes in front of him. He bit his lip to keep from cackling with delight at his own cleverness.
Through the pantry door, Joe heard a muffled “Forty-nine, FIFTY!” as Josie finished counting. Joe bit his lip again and grinned as he heard her racing down the hallway toward the bedrooms.
“Gotcha,” he gloated softly to the potatoes.
All too soon, though, footsteps approached the outside of the pantry door. How did Josie get there so fast? Oh well, Joe thought, at least he could give her a good scare when she found him.
Light flooded into the pantry as the door swung open and the sack of potatoes was snatched away. Momentarily blinded, Little Joe popped out from his hiding spot with a loud “BOO!”
Hop Sing screamed and flung the sack of potatoes at Joe, who ducked just before all twenty pounds of tubers clocked him in the head. He burst out laughing at his mistake.
“Sorry, Hop Sing!” he squeaked between peals of hysterical giggles. “I thought you were Josie!” He bent double and nearly fell to the floor with the force of his laughter.
Hop Sing’s face went bright red, and Little Joe could have sworn he saw steam pouring out of the cook’s ears.
“Boys no belong in kitchen!” Hop Sing shouted, jabbing a finger at Little Joe. “Hop Sing say over and over again to boys to stay out of kitchen! Why you in pantry?”
Joe opened his mouth to explain when he heard the front door bang open. Seconds later, Ben, Adam, and Hoss burst into the kitchen, guns drawn and rain dripping from their clothes onto Hop Sing’s kitchen floor.
“Hop Sing!” Ben said. “What happened? What’s going on? We heard you scream!”
Hop Sing spun on his heel to face his employer. “Little Joe hide in pantry! Nearly scare Hop Sing to death!” Another indignant finger stabbed in Little Joe’s direction.
Ben sighed, and Adam and Hoss snickered as all three of them holstered their guns. Josie and her parents, Jacob and Hannah, peeped uncertainly around the doorframe.
“Joseph!” Ben barked. “Would you mind explaining why you frightened Hop Sing?”
Little Joe quailed under his father’s stern glare. “I didn’t mean to scare him, Pa.” He scuffed a toe along the floor. “Me and Josie were playin’ Hide and Seek, and it was my turn to hide. I didn’t think Hop Sing would be startin’ supper just yet.”
Jacob and Hannah joined Adam and Hoss in snickering.
Ben covered his eyes with one hand and pulled off his dripping hat with the other. “Joseph, apologize to Hop Sing and then get out of the kitchen, please.”
Joe mumbled an apology to Hop Sing and then darted out of the kitchen, grabbing Josie as he raced past. He decided it was probably best if they suspended their game of Hide and Seek for the time being, so while the big people changed out of their wet clothes, Joe finally consented to the game of checkers that Josie had suggested earlier.
The game didn’t last long.
After only three moves apiece, Josie accused Joe of cheating, saying that he’d moved one of her pieces backward when she turned her head to sneeze. Little Joe’s temper flared. He was the best checkers player in the entire Utah Territory! Why would he need to cheat?! Within seconds, the children were shouting at each other at the top of their lungs, and Little Joe had flung the board to the floor, scattering checkers all over the living room.
For the second time in fifteen minutes, Ben Cartwright stormed into a room and demanded that his youngest son tell him what in the world was going on. He was still dripping, his dry clothes clutched in one hand.
“Josie ‘cused me of cheatin’, Pa!” Angry tears burned trails down Joe’s cheeks.
Ben sighed – something he did a lot, Little Joe thought – and massaged his temples.
“Look,” he began, his voice dangerously soft. “Right now, I don’t really care what she accused you of. I’m wet, I’m hungry, and I’m exhausted. Now clean up these checkers, and then the two of you find something quiet to do until supper, or you will find yourselves in a world of trouble.” He stalked out of the house to the bunkhouse where he’d been sleeping while Jacob and Hannah had his bedroom.
Drawn by the commotion, Hoss had tumbled into the living room behind Ben and finished buttoning his dry shirt while Ben threatened the children. He scooted over to Joe and laid an enormous hand on his baby brother’s shoulders.
“Come on, little buddy,” he said. “Lemme help you clean up these checkers, and then three of us will find something to do.”
Little Joe grinned; he could always count on Hoss to be on his side. They had the checkers picked up in no time, and then they collapsed on the settee with Hoss in the middle. Joe wasn’t ready to forgive Josie just yet.
“So what are we going to do, Hoss?” Josie asked.
Joe didn’t give his brother time to reply. “Tell us a story, Hoss! Tell us a story!” If Little Joe was the best checkers player in the Utah Territory, then Hoss was the best storyteller.
“You want a story?” Hoss asked with a grin.
“Yes, Hoss, please!” Josie squealed, bouncing in her seat. Little Joe nodded so vigorously his curly hair bobbed.
Hoss chuckled. “All right, then.” He draped his arms across the little kids’ shoulders. “Have you two ever heard of the Sasquatch?”
Little Joe wrinkled his nose. “The Samsquanch? What’s that?”
Hoss laughed. “Not ‘Samsquanch,’ silly, ‘Sasquatch.’”
Joe and Josie both shook their heads.
“Well, when Pa took me with him to the Oregon Territory last summer, I didn’t just hear about it, I saw it!”
“What is it? What is it?” Josie demanded.
“Gimme a minute, and I’ll get there. Now, me and Pa, after we talked to some men he was doin’ business with, we set off for home right through the middle of those thick Oregon woods. Weather up there was so pretty we took our time about it and stopped to fish. Well, darned if we didn’t catch ourselves a whole pile of salmon! I’ll tell you, those streams up there are so full of salmon you could reach right in there with your bare hands and scoop out a dozen. That’s why the grizzly bears like it up there so much.
“Anyway, me and Pa, we had our big pile of fish, and we couldn’t possibly eat all of them, so we fried up a couple for supper and strung up the rest for the next day. It was warm, so we didn’t keep much of a fire goin’ when we went to sleep – just a couple of embers – and it got real dark out there. Now, you know it ain’t so easy to wake me up.”
Hoss paused while Little Joe laughed. It was true: Hoss slept like the dead. Ben often joked that Hoss could sleep through the Rapture.
“Well, wouldn’t you know, I popped awake sometime in the middle of the night. I couldn’t figure out why at first. Pa was snorin’ away, but that ain’t enough to wake me up. Then I heard it: A mysterious rustlin’ at the edge of our camp.”
Little Joe and Josie’s eyes shot wide, and Josie let out a little gasp.
“What did you do, Hoss?” she breathed.
“Reached for my gun, of course!” the teenager laughed. “I figgered we had a bear in camp, or at least a pesky ol’ raccoon, and I aimed to scare it off. So I grabbed my gun and rolled over real quiet-like. And that’s when I saw it. Standin’ right there next to our string of fish was this big, hairy, hulking creature. I thought it was a bear at first, but it looked up when I cocked my gun, and I realized it weren’t no bear. But it sure weren’t no man, either. He was about seven or eight feet tall, and all covered in shaggy brown hair. His eyes were real close together, and when he heard my gun cocking, he turned his head and stared right at me!”
A thrill of delighted terror shot through Little Joe, and he shivered as his skin broke out in goosebumps.
“What did you do?!” he demanded.
“Couldn’t do nothin’,” Hoss said with a shrug. “I knew I should at least fire into the air to scare him off, but I was too stunned. I just laid there and stared back at him. Finally, he snatched one of the fish off the line and took off runnin’ back into the woods. He ran like this.” Hoss leapt from the sofa and loped, spraddle-legged across the living room, swinging his arms like a gorilla.
Josie giggled, but Joe just stared at Hoss in awe.
“What did Pa say when you told him about it?” Joe asked.
Hoss quit ambling and frowned. “Pa said I musta seen a bear. One of the fish was definitely gone, but we looked all over the next mornin’ and couldn’t find no tracks of any kind – bear or man. But I’m tellin’ you: It weren’t no bear.”
Little Joe’s chest was heaving, and he could barely catch his breath to ask his next question. “Do ya think we got Samsquanches down here, Hoss?”
“Sasquatches, Joe, and maybe. Probably not right here around the house, but maybe up in the mountains, or even just back in them woods apiece.”
“Are you telling that crazy wild-man story again?” Adam asked as he stepped into the room.
Little Joe jumped; he hadn’t heard Adam come in from the bunkhouse.
“Ain’t crazy, Adam!” Hoss insisted. “I saw the Sasquatch!”
“Sure you did, Younger Brother.” Adam gave Hoss a patronizing smile. “Come on, I think Hop Sing has supper about ready. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
Joe and Josie giggled as Hoss stuck his tongue out at Adam’s retreating figure before they hopped off the settee and followed the eldest Cartwright cousin into the dining room.
******
That night, Little Joe lay in bed, staring up at the underside of the bunk above him. His mind swirled with images of a hairy ape-man sneaking fish from his brother’s campsite.
“Josie!” Little Joe hissed. “You awake?”
“Yeah,” came the whispered reply. “Whaddya need?”
“I need to talk to you. Come down here.” One of the adults would hear if he and Josie kept whispering across the bunks to each other, and this was a conversation Joe preferred to keep between him and his cousin.
The upper bunk creaked and Josie’s bare feet appeared over the edge. She dropped lightly to the floor, and Little Joe scooted over to make room for her. Josie slipped into bed next to Joe and pulled the sheet up over both of them.
“All right, I’m here. Whaddya want?”
“I been thinkin’ about that Samsquanch Hoss told us about.”
“Sasquatch, Joe.”
“Whichever. Anyway, I been thinkin’. Pa ain’t used half the land we own yet, and I’d be surprised if we don’t have ourselves a Samsquanch right here on the Ponderosa. And I’m gonna find him.”
Josie radiated skepticism so brightly the bed got too warm.
“I don’t know, Joe,” she said. “Adam said that was just a crazy story.”
Little Joe bristled. “What does Adam know about it? He ain’t even been here for three years!”
“Got a college degree, doesn’t he?”
“Yeah, from some damn Yankee school. They didn’t teach him nothin’ about real livin’. Why, if Adam met a Samsquanch, he’d probably recite poetry to it.”
Josie giggled, and a grin spread across Little Joe’s face. He had her.
“So what’s your plan?” she asked.
Little Joe huddled close to his cousin and quietly outlined his scheme.
******
When Little Joe opened his eyes the next morning, all he saw was a sea of black, and his scalp prickled with fear.
“I’m blinded!” he thought. He bolted upright, and suddenly, he could see again. Bright sunlight poured in through the open window and nearly blinded him for real. Glancing down, he saw what had been obstructing his vision. Josie was lying on her side, her long black hair fanned out across the pillow. It must have been covering his face. Joe couldn’t remember how long he and Josie had laid awake whispering, but at some point, they had drifted off to sleep before Josie could climb back into the top bunk. Jostled when Little Joe sat up, Josie stirred and blinked up at him. The cousins shared a wordless grin and sprang out of bed to get dressed.
Ten minutes later, the children raced each other to the dining room and plopped into their seats for breakfast.
“You two are awfully eager this morning,” Ben observed, his eyes twinkling. “Big plans for today?”
Little Joe nodded enthusiastically as Hop Sing poured him a glass of milk. “Me and Josie were thinkin’ about goin’ fishing in that stream back in the woods apiece, if that’s all right.”
Ben glanced across the table to his brother, who nodded his consent.
“Certainly, son. That sounds like a fine way to stay out of Hop Sing’s hair for the day. You two just be careful. It’s mating season for the bears, so if you see one, you clear out, you understand? Don’t try to get a closer look.”
Josie’s mother gasped. “Oh, goodness, Ben! Are you sure it’s safe for the children to be out there alone?”
Little Joe’s heart sank as it looked like his beloved Aunt Hannah was about to foil his plan.
Much to Joe’s relief, Ben waved her off. “It’ll be fine, Hannah. Bears rarely get this close to the house. Just always smart to keep a weather eye. Hop Sing, would you be so good as to pack a lunch for Joe and Josie?” He winked at his son. “You two could have a picnic up in your treehouse.”
Joe beamed. Adam had built him a treehouse about a quarter mile behind the house before he left for college. Any time Joe found himself missing his brother, he’d climb up into his treehouse, lie on the floor, and look up through the branches. It had always brought him comfort, like his big brother was still holding him even across all those miles.
“Hop Sing more than happy to pack lunch for Josie and Little Joe,” Hop Sing announced. “If little boy out of house, then little boy not in pantry!”
Everyone laughed as Hop Sing stormed into the kitchen.
Little Joe kept giggling as he heard Hop Sing’s muttering waft out of the kitchen, but then a sobering thought occurred to him: If Ben found out he and Josie weren’t actually going to picnic in the treehouse, he’d be in big trouble. His father’s number-one rule was that his sons always tell someone exactly where they were going and when they planned to return, and they must never deviate from that plan, except in an emergency. It was easy to run into trouble on a ranch this size, and it was foolish to run off without giving someone an idea of where to start looking if you didn’t come home.
“Actually, Pa,” Joe piped up. “Do you think it would be ok if me and Josie had our picnic in that little clearing beyond the stream? It’s real pretty there this time of year.”
Ben glanced at Jacob once more, and the younger man nodded again.
“Sure thing, son. And you’re right; it is real pretty there in the summer. Josie, you’re in for a treat.”
Little Joe and Josie swapped a big grin. Their expedition had parental consent.
******
After breakfast and another stern warning from Ben about keeping away from wildlife, Little Joe and Josie took their picnic basket and fishing poles and scampered off into the woods behind the house. They passed the treehouse and raced, giggling, to the stream another quarter mile farther into the woods.
“You really think we’ll see a Sasquatch, Joe?” Josie asked as they cast their fishing lines into the stream.
“You heard Pa. It’s matin’ season for the bears, so that must mean it’s Samsquanch matin’ season, too. I bet they’re crawlin’ all over lookin’ for girls.”
Josie went pale and scooted closer to Little Joe.
“Not people girls, Silly,” Joe laughed. “Samsquanch girls!” He giggled so hard at the relief on Josie’s face that he almost didn’t notice the tug on his line.
“Hey! I got one already!” He yanked sharply on the line to set the hook and then reeled in a beautiful rainbow trout.
“Good job, Joe!”
Little Joe grinned. “He must be four pounds! Couple more like him, and we’ll catch ourselves a Samsquanch for sure!”
The stream was bountiful that day, and within an hour, the cousins had half a dozen trout. Little Joe strung them up just like Hoss had taught him to do. Josie grabbed the picnic basket, and Little Joe led her deeper into the woods. They traveled about a mile and a half before they reached the clearing Little Joe had in mind. It was a small space, but the grass was speckled with yellow and white wildflowers, and there was a big tree stump smack in the middle.
“You were right, Joe! This is perfect!” Josie gushed as she set down the picnic basket.
“Told ya,” Little Joe replied with a dazzling smile. “Come on! Let’s get set up!”
While Joe took the fish off the string, Josie dived into the picnic basket and extracted a red-and-white-checked tablecloth and one of the two tin plates that Hop Sing had packed. She spread the tablecloth on the tree stump and set the plate on top. Little Joe carefully stacked the six trout in a pyramid on the plate, and then laid a napkin and a knife and fork next to the plate. He stepped back from their display and furrowed his brow.
“I don’t know, Josie,” he said. “Seems like it’s missin’ something.”
Josie stood next to Joe and mimicked his cross-armed stance. After a moment of staring at the tree-stump table, she snapped her fingers. “I’ve got it!” She raced around the clearing plucking wildflowers. Once she had a fistful, she snatched one of the tin cups from the picnic basket and filled it with water from the jug Hop Sing had packed. She stuck the flowers in the cup of water and placed them in the center of the stump.
Little Joe beamed at his cousin. “That’s perfect!” Josie sure did have good ideas sometimes. For a girl, of course. “All right, now let’s scoot out of here so we don’t scare off the Samsquanch!” He grabbed the picnic basket and led Josie to a clump of bushes on the perimeter of the clearing. The bushes made almost a full circle with a little space in the middle, creating the perfect spot for two children to hunker out of sight while they waited for their ape-man to arrive.
“You sure he’ll come?” Josie asked as she dug their sandwiches out of the basket.
“Sure I’m sure! Hoss said Samsquanches love fish, didn’t he? And ain’t those the tastiest-looking fish you’ve ever seen?”
Josie agreed that they were and handed Joe a sandwich. They sat in their hideaway and munched quietly, their eyes focused on the tree stump.
Minutes ticked by and turned into an hour, and then two. Little Joe’s rear end was getting awfully sore from sitting on the hard-packed dirt, and from the way Josie was shifting around, Joe guessed she wasn’t any better off. To her credit, though, Josie didn’t complain. She didn’t even utter so much as an unhappy peep.
Until the storm clouds came rolling in.
Little Joe noticed them first: dark, roiling clouds that swept across the sky, blotting out the sunshine he’d been so happy to see that morning. Josie didn’t look up until she heard the first crack of thunder.
“Uh, Joe?” she squeaked, pointing up through the trees. “Is that a problem?”
“Naw,” Joe drawled. “It’s good, is what it is! Samsquanches love the rain!” As if on cue, fat, cold droplets started pelting down on them. Josie turned the empty picnic basket upside-down over her head.
Little Joe was determined to sit through the storm, but the rain kept coming down harder and harder, and within seconds, he and Josie were both soaked through to the skin. Their little botanical fort did nothing to block the sharp wind whipping across them, stinging their faces and cutting like an icy knife through their saturated clothes. Little Joe was still impressed by Josie’s refusal to complain, but he wondered how long they could hold out.
The Good Lord answered that question for Joe mere seconds later.
A deafening crack of lightning struck a tree only a few feet away, and its upper branches exploded in a shower of orange sparks. Both children squeaked with fright and leapt to their feet, Josie dropping the picnic basket in the process. Little Joe grabbed Josie’s hand, and they ran, picnic supplies and fishing gear forgotten in their panic.
“Isn’t the house the other way?” Josie shouted over the squall.
“The house is two miles away!” Joe called back. “There’s an old cabin just a little ways ahead! Come on!”
Josie kept up, and in another minute or so, a sagging gray cabin came into view. The rotting door slumped on its hinges and put up no fight as Little Joe crashed into it, and the children toppled inside. Josie slammed the door, and Little Joe dragged an old, splintering chair in front of it to keep it closed. At last, both children dropped onto a moldering rug in front of the dusty fireplace, their chests heaving and their hair and clothes dripping. Hot tears burned Little Joe’s eyes.
“I was so sure we’d see a Samsquanch,” he hiccupped, fighting to keep the tears at bay. “I was so sure.” He fiddled with the end of a loose floorboard so he wouldn’t have to look at Josie.
Josie scooted over to him and put a wet arm around his equally wet shoulders. “Maybe they just don’t come this far south. Tell you what. When we get big, I’ll move out here, and you and me, we’ll go up to the Oregon Territory where Hoss and Uncle Ben were, and we’ll find that Sasquatch. And we won’t just spot him, either. We’ll explain to him we don’t mean him any harm, and convince him to come home with us, and show Adam once and for all that it isn’t just a crazy story!”
Little Joe cracked a small smile. “You mean it?”
“Of course I mean it! You and me, we’re going to have all sorts of adventures together!”
Joe broke into a full grin. He and Josie had a lot of growing up to do before she could move to the Ponderosa for good, but it was going to be worth the wait.
“You bet we are!” Joe agreed. “Now let’s see if we can’t get ourselves warmed up and dried out a bit.” He dug his fingers under the loose floorboard and pried it up. Josie grinned and found a loose board of her own.
“Hey, Joe?” she asked as she yanked on a board on the other side of the room. “How come this cabin’s here anyway? Did Uncle Ben build it?”
“Naw,” Joe replied. He fell backward onto his rear end as his floorboard came loose. “There’s bunches of these old cabins all over the Ponderosa from before Pa bought the land. He’s torn down a few, but most of ‘em are just standin’ around crumblin’ like this one.”
After ten minutes of hard labor, Little Joe and Josie had only three floorboards to show for their trouble. Frustrated, Joe flung the three boards into the fireplace and dragged over a disintegrating rocking chair from across the room. The fireplace was just tall enough to accommodate it. He grinned and felt along the mantel, praying for a box of matches. His prayers were answered, and he pulled down a small box. Josie let out a little cheer as Joe struck a match and lit the rocking chair. The ancient, parched wood caught immediately, and the cousins were soon warming themselves before the crackling flames. They sat silently for a long time, rotating occasionally to dry out their clothes.
When Little Joe was about dry, he rose and ambled over to a cracked window to gaze out at the storm. The thunder and lightning had died down, but the wind and rain showed no signs of slowing. He frowned. The afternoon was wearing away, and he and Josie were in danger of being late to supper. They wouldn’t be in trouble – on the contrary, Ben would be glad that they had taken shelter from the storm – but Joe’s tummy was starting to rumble. Lunch felt like it had been days ago.
Josie got up from the fireplace and joined Joe at the window.
“Doesn’t look much better,” she said, shaking her head.
Joe agreed and was about to say something else when a loud “CRACK!” came from the fireplace. The children spun around just in time to see the charred skeleton of the rocking chair split in two, the upper half falling forward out of the fireplace and landing on the wooden floor. The dry wood caught immediately, and within seconds, half the living-room floor was on fire. Joe cursed, grabbed Josie’s hand, and tore out of the cabin – right back into the drenching rain.
The cousins ran a couple dozen yards from the cabin and turned and watched as flames consumed their erstwhile shelter. Little Joe was amazed at how quickly the structure burned in such a heavy rain. He would have thought the rain would have extinguished the fire. He’d have to ask Adam to explain it to him later. No, he thought, better not to let anyone know he and Josie had just set a cabin on fire.
“Come on, Josie,” he sighed, cramming his hands in his soggy pockets. “May as well head home. Ain’t gonna get any wetter than we already are.”
“Joe? What about the Sasquatch? What if he’s out there? You said they love the rain.”
“He ain’t gonna bother us, Josie. Samsquanches are actually real smart. He’ll know we’re just a couple of kids tryin’ to get home.”
Despite his brave words, Joe kept a wary eye out as he led Josie back through the pouring rain toward the Cartwrights’ house
.
The children were only halfway home when they heard thundering hoof beats coming toward them. Moments later, Ben and Adam whipped around a stand of trees and yanked their horses to a stop. Little Joe almost burst into tears. He was cold, wet, and hungry, but rescued. Ben leapt from his horse and gathered his son and niece up in his arms, Adam hot on his heels.
“Are you two all right?” he asked, brushing Little Joe’s wet curls off his forehead.
“We’re fine, Pa,” Joe said. “Just got caught in this rain.”
“And, boy, are we glad to see you!” Josie added as Adam pulled her and Joe away from Ben and hugged them, too.
“You guys are shivering,” Adam said. “Come on, let’s get you home.” He set Josie in the front of his saddle and mounted up behind her, while Ben did the same with Joe. The rain continued to pelt down, but now, safe in the saddle with his father’s arms around him, Joe no longer cared.
They were nearly home when Little Joe remembered their abandoned picnic basket and fishing poles. Panicked, he explained to his father how he and Josie had left it all behind when they took off looking for shelter. He was careful not to mention precisely where they had taken shelter. As they had slogged through the rain, Joe had pressed upon Josie the importance of not letting the adults know they’d lit a cabin ablaze.
“I didn’t mean to forget the poles, Pa,” he pleaded. “I was just so worried about gettin’ me and Josie outta that storm.”
“I can get everything tomorrow,” Adam called over the rain. “I have to ride out that way anyway to check some traps.”
Ben agreed, and, apart from the pitter-patter of the slowing rain, they rode the rest of the way home in silence. Little Joe was disappointed they hadn’t seen a Sasquatch, but it looked like he and Josie had lucked out anyway.
******
Jacob, Hannah, Hoss, and Hop Sing breathed sighs of relief when Ben and Adam returned with Little Joe and Josie, both wet and shivering, but unhurt. Since it was suppertime anyway, Ben and Hannah bundled the children up into dry pajamas and let them eat their supper in their nightclothes.
That night, after the adults had tucked them in and retired to the living room for brandy and conversation, Josie climbed down from her bunk and crawled into bed alongside Little Joe. The evening air breezing through the open window was warm, but Joe still felt a chill deep in his bones from his soaking that afternoon. He snuggled up to Josie and draped an arm over her.
“I’m still sorry we didn’t get to see that Sasquatch,” Josie yawned. “I sure would have loved to see him.”
Exhausted by the day’s adventures, Little Joe sighed. “I guess they ain’t real after all,” he whispered. “Adam was right. It’s just a crazy story.”
Josie frowned. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” she admitted. “But it was a good adventure all the same, wasn’t it.”
“It sure was!” Joe giggled.
Worried that the adults would hear them, Little Joe whispered goodnight to his cousin, and, still cuddled up together, the children were soon fast asleep.
******
The next morning dawned bright and clear, but Little Joe and Josie opted to play in the front yard. They’d had quite enough exploring for the time being. Just before lunch, Adam rode into the yard, the fishing poles and picnic basket all tied to his saddle. Little Joe and Josie ran to him for hugs. Laughing, Adam swung each of them up in an arm and carried them toward the house.
“Hey, there, son,” Ben said, stepping out of the house. “No trouble out there, I take it?”
“No, no trouble,” Adam said vaguely as he set Joe and Josie down.
Something was off in Adam’s tone, and Little Joe and Josie shot each other a wide-eyed look.
“What is it, Adam?” Ben asked, taking another step toward his eldest.
Adam pulled off his hat and scratched his head. “Well, first of all, Pa, you know that old cabin beyond the clearing Joe and Josie were in yesterday?”
Ben nodded.
“It’s gone. Burnt to the ground. Must have gotten struck by lightning during that storm yesterday.”
“That doesn’t really surprise me,” Ben said, relaxing a bit. “That old cabin was drier than Death Valley. The only thing that does surprise me is that it didn’t burn down long before this.”
“Yes, sir,” Adam said. “Pretty impressive it managed to go during that downpour, though. But I suppose if the rain hadn’t saturated the wood yet, it didn’t take much more than a spark to send the whole thing up.”
Little Joe had to bite his lip to keep from exclaiming his delight with the explanation he’d been afraid to ask Adam for.
“So what’s the second thing?” Ben asked.
“Sir?”
“You said ‘First of all.’ Led me to believe there was something else you had to report.”
“Oh, yes, sir.” Adam’s cheeks reddened, and he hesitated. “Pa, you’re gonna think I’m crazy.”
“Adam, of all my children, you are the least likely to earn that title.”
Adam sighed. “Well, when I went to the clearing to get the picnic basket and the fishing gear, I saw some strange tracks.”
“What sort of tracks?”
“That’s the just thing, Pa. I don’t know. I’ve never seen tracks like this in my life. They were all around that old stump in the middle of the clearing.” Adam glanced down at Little Joe and Josie, who were hanging on his every word. “That was a cute setup you two had, by the way. I like how you were using the stump as a table.”
“I know how to show a lady a nice time,” Little Joe insisted.
“What about these tracks, though, Adam?” Ben asked. “What did they look like?”
“Feet,” Adam said simply. “Bare human feet.”
Ben’s shoulders sagged. “I’m supposed to think you’re crazy because you saw evidence that Josie and Little Joe took their boots off yesterday?”
“These weren’t children’s feet, Pa,” Adam explained. “They weren’t even an adult’s. They were, well, HUGE! Take one of my feet and multiply it about three times, and you’ll have the idea.”
Little Joe muffled a gasp and grabbed Josie’s hand. She turned her bright hazel eyes on him, shock written all over her face.
The corners of Ben’s mouth twitched, and his eyes sparkled. “And where did these gigantic bare feet wander off to, son?”
“I knew it! I knew you’d think I was crazy! I didn’t want to tell you, but I did, and now you think I’m crazy.”
“Calm down, Adam, I’m sorry. Please, where do the tracks lead?”
“That’s the final strange thing, Pa. They just disappear. They go all around that stump and a little ways toward the west end of the clearing, and then they just vanish.”
Josie’s mouth dropped open, and Little Joe reached over and closed it. For the first time in his life, he was glad he was so short. When Ben and Adam were staring at each other like they were now, neither of them could see all the way down to his level.
“You must have just seen some strange washout patterns from that storm,” Ben said. “That was quite a downpour we got.”
“Pa, I’m telling you, they were feet!”
Ben clapped a hand on Adam’s shoulder. “Come on, son. Let’s get you inside out of the sun and put some food in you. That’ll set you right.”
As Ben led a protesting Adam into the house, Little Joe couldn’t resist taking a little stab at his brother.
“You should tell Hoss about it, Adam! He loves crazy stories!”
Little Joe and Josie dissolved into giggles as Adam glared over his shoulder at them just before he disappeared through the front door.
Josie let out a squeak as the door slammed shut behind Ben and Adam.
“Joe! D’ya think those feet belonged to the Sasquatch?!”
“Don’t see who else they coulda belonged to,” Joe said, his eyes dancing with joy. “You heard Adam. Even ol’ Hoss ain’t got feet that big!”
“He’s close, Joe! He’s real close! We should go back out there this afternoon and poke around!”
Little Joe frowned. After their scares yesterday with the storm and the flaming house, he was all adventured out. “I don’t know, Josie. That Samsquanch must have waited until we left to come after those fish. Seems to me he doesn’t want to be bothered.”
“You think he was watching us?!”
Joe shrugged casually even as a shiver coursed down his spine. “Musta been. But like I said, Josie, I don’t think he wants to be bothered. If I were a Samsquanch, I probably wouldn’t wanna be bothered, either. All sorts of people tryin’ to poke at me like I was a circus freak. No, thank you.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Josie said, scuffing a toe through the dirt. “Too bad, though. That would have been a great story to tell the other girls back home.”
“Oh, you’ll have plenty of good stories to tell them, don’t you worry about that,” Little Joe said, his bright smile flashing across his face. “Wait till you hear what I’ve got planned for tomorrow!”
Before Joe could relay his plan, Hop Sing called them in for lunch.
“All right!” Joe called back. He turned to Josie. “Guess I’ll tell you later. Let’s eat!”
Giggling, the cousins darted hand-in-hand into the house.