Rating: T

Word Count=4960

Summary: WHI for The Savage. Was Ruth Halverson real? Did Adam propose marriage to her? This story attempts to explain some of the events in this episode.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bonanza or the Cartwrights. No copyright infringement is intended on the script by Joe Stone and Paul King. All original plot elements are property of the author. This story is for entertainment purposes only.

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Fevered Dreams

Adam rode through the shimmering heat, thinking about the argument he’d had with his father about Ira Fairbanks’ windmill. To have his curiosity treated as an indulgence was galling. At least his father had finally realized that the windmill did have practical applications and that perhaps it could be used on the Ponderosa. Pa’s argument that it was too close to roundup to spare him was ridiculous; there were plenty of hands as well as his brothers to do the work for the next week. Besides, he wasn’t asking for a month off to dawdle in San Francisco. He had only asked for the chance to see Ira’s windmill so he could make some sketches and then design something similar for their land.

He’d been so lost in thought that he hadn’t realized where he was until he saw the crossed spears marking the boundary of the Mountain of the Dead, a no man’s land held sacred by the Shoshone. The stories told by whites and Indians said that any living person who ignored the warning and crossed the spears would be doomed to wander among ghosts for eternity in a living death; no one would ever know what had become of the person because there would be no evidence to mark their passage beyond the boundary. He briefly thought of how much time he’d save if he passed through the Mountain of the Dead as a shortcut, but, even though a skeptic, he wondered if the stories held any truth. On the verge of turning to leave, he caught sight of a dead man and decided to investigate.

Two white men had been killed with arrows just inside the boundary, evidence that the stories were just that. The arrows were very real and most likely had not been shot by spectral sentries intent on keeping trespassers out. He was examining the men for clues to their identity when he heard a masculine voice calling on a spirit for help. He drew his gun in case he needed to defend himself. Not wanting to be observed, he climbed onto the rocks and maneuvered until he was in a position to see what was happening.

The sun’s reflection from the rocks caused a glare that made seeing difficult. A light-haired woman had appeared to speak to the Indian, who made an offering to her as he pleaded for her to come help his people. The woman spoke in a strong voice as she refused to go with the man; Adam detected an accent that reminded him of Inger. Moving on his perch so he could better observe what was happening, he was surprised to see the Indian grab the woman’s arm and the struggle that then began when the woman was revealed to be flesh and blood instead of a spirit.

Seeing the Indian pull a stone axe from his belt to kill the woman, Adam yelled out, “Put it down! I said, put it down!” Instead, the Indian threw the axe up at him and ran for his horse; Adam’s shot caught the Indian in the back and he fell dead.

Trying to find a way down from the rocks to help the woman, Adam felt an intense pain in his right calf and looked down to see a Shoshone arrow in his leg. He shot his pistol as he lost his balance and his bullet caught the Indian, killing him. Even though he windmilled his arms to keep from falling from the rocks, Adam lost his balance and plummeted to the ground; a portion of the arrow’s shaft snapped off on impact, leaving the point embedded in his calf.

Even though blood and sweat were dripping into his eyes, he saw the woman who had been threatened by the Indians crouching near him. As he reached for her and asked, “Who are you?” she stood and backed away. “Help me,” he pleaded as he reached towards her but the woman ran off. “Come back!” he demanded as she disappeared from his sight. Even though the pain was intense, he managed to stand, yet when he tried to put his weight on the leg, he fell against the rocks and passed into blessed oblivion.

He regained consciousness as he felt a cool, wet piece of cloth pressed against his lips. He gratefully tried to suck the water from the cloth. Opening his eyes, he saw the woman. “Who are you?” he asked. Seeing her hesitate as she drew a large knife, he said, “I couldn’t hurt you if I wanted to.”

“If I wanted your life, I wouldn’t have returned,” she answered before cutting open the leg of his jeans.

“Will you tell me who you are?” he asked.

“I’m called White Buffalo Woman.”

“White Buffalo Woman? The spirit woman of the legends of the plains Indians?” She continued tending to the arrow wound without answering his question. Watching her about to remove the arrow from his leg, he said, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

She placed the damp piece of cloth in his mouth and told him, “Don’t move.”

He tried hard to not give into the pain and scream as she removed the arrow from his leg. Just as he thought he’d pass out again, the arrowhead came free. “Thanks,” was the only word he could get out through the intense pain as she bandaged the bleeding wound.

The woman helped him to stand and support some of his weight as he hopped over to the nearby travois. He felt her tying his arm to it but gave into the pain and passed out before he knew if he’d been secured or not.

*

Adam slowly became aware of the heat from the sun beating down on his face. He sluggishly opened his eyes and became aware that he was lying on a bed of animal skins and his head was supported by a log for a pillow. His head was pounding with the beat of his heart and he tried to remember what could have happened to result in so much pain. Lying still yet looking around, he tried to remember how he got to this place. He’d been on an errand, hadn’t he? For Pa? Or for himself? There was someplace he’d been trying to get to, but where was it? Placing a hand over his eyes, he tried to think through the pain. He’d been on his way to look at Fairbanks’ windmill when he’d reached the Mountain of the Dead. But what had happened after that? Two men had been dead. He’d been checking their bodies when something happened. Had he been bitten by a rattlesnake? Or shot? That would explain the pain in his leg but not the pain in his head. His fingers, still over his eyes, felt along his forehead and made contact with a leather headband holding some cloth in place. Had he been shot in the head and the leg? Had he been shot while riding Sport and thrown against a rock? He couldn’t remember and decided to rest more before trying to think.

Finally deciding to sit up, he almost instantly regretted it when he began seeing flashes of light; shutting his eyes tightly didn’t make the flashes end. Taking a deep breath, he sat up again and scooted his back against the log. Looking down, he saw the bandage on his leg and tried to remember how that had gotten there. Putting his hand to the white linen, he felt the heat radiating from his calf. Somebody must have shot him, but who dug the bullet out?

“Ah…you’re back among the living,” a feminine voice said.

Looking around, Adam wasn’t sure where the voice had come from. He tried to stand, but his wounded leg wouldn’t allow his body to use it as a support. He was reaching for a pile of sticks to select one as a weapon and cane when a knife whizzed past his head and embedded itself in the log he was leaning against.

“Who are you?” he asked.

Drawing herself up to her full height, she replied, “Some call me White Buffalo Woman.”

Adam thought for a brief moment and tried to remember where he’d heard that name before. Wasn’t White Buffalo Woman only a legend? He squinted as he looked at her and saw a kindly face and light hair. With the sun at her back, he couldn’t determine its color but thought it might be blond. He finally asked, “Are you a spirit?”
She came over to him, knelt down, and placed a hand against his forehead; he was hot with fever. Picking up a nearby water bag, she placed a hand behind his head and pressed the mouth of the bag against his lips. He drank greedily for a few moments before she lowered it and set it aside. She reached towards the bandage on his leg and felt her arm gripped strongly by his hand.

“Are you a spirit?”

Gently removing his hand from her arm, she replied, “Some would think I am.”

“What should I think?”

“That you’re very lucky.”

“Lucky to have a pounding head and throbbing leg?”

“Lucky to have your life.”

Adam was sure he’d heard her voice before and he tried to think of where they might have met. He lay back against the log and placed his hand over his eyes to block out the light. Pain….there’d been pain in his leg. A stick was in his leg causing the pain. Why would a stick hurt so much?

“I’m going to put another poultice on this wound,” he heard her say.

Wound. The stick hadn’t caused the wound. Removing his hand, he looked over and saw the knife in the log. That’s what had caused the pain! He’d been stabbed! He was about to reach for the blade when he felt a pressure on his chest and arm. “Oh no you don’t,” was all he heard before falling into the black void again.

*

A woman’s voice was reading aloud. The voice had a sing-song quality and an accent that his fevered brain could almost identify. The word for that accent was almost on the tip of his tongue, if he could just capture it and say it. Maybe thinking about the person’s other aspects and not just the voice would help him remember. The face that went with that accent was framed by blond hair and had eyes as blue as a mountain lake, rosy cheeks, and a warm and generous smile. Those features he was thinking of began to coalesce into an actual face. There–he could see it now. Mama! That was Mama’s voice reading aloud! Swedish. The accent was Swedish. Mama was from Sweden. She was here and watching over him now, making sure he was well-cared for as he healed.

Cracking open an eye, he hoped to see Mama nearby. Instead, he saw a different woman and she was reading aloud from a large book.

“You’ve come back. I was beginning to worry.”

“What happened?”

“You passed out trying to grab my knife.”

Adam covered his eyes with his hand and tried to think of why he would have been trying to take her knife. Maybe he had wanted to cut the pain out of his leg? Looking at her, he asked again, “What happened?”

“Do you not remember the arrow?”

He frowned and furrowed his brow as he tried to remember anything to do with an arrow. He’d found two dead men with arrows in their backs. Did that mean he’d been shot by an Indian while trying to help those men? “Was I shot while trying to help someone?”

“In a way. You thought you were helping me by shooting a very powerful medicine man’s son. His companion shot you in the leg.”

He’d been trying to help her? There had been a woman who appeared when an Indian called for a spirit to help his people. “Are you flesh and blood?” he asked her.

A laugh was her only response. “I’m a living person, not a spirit who haunts these mountains.”

“Are you Swedish?”

A look of surprise crossed her face. “Why would you ask that?”

“Your voice reminds me of my mother. She was from Sweden.”

The woman looked down at the book and closed it. “My father was from Norway. He came to America as a young man and settled in Connecticut, where he met my mother. She died when I was a little girl and he raised me alone.”

“How did you get from Connecticut to here?”

She looked down at the book again and caressed its worn cover. “Daddy wanted to come West after Mother died, so he sold everything he could to buy a wagon. We made it as far as St. Joseph where we stayed a few years. When Daddy decided we should continue on, he was told it was too late and we’d be trapped by the snow. He only laughed. He said that winters here in America were nothing compared to those in Norway.” She paused in her story. “Daddy was wrong, though.”

“I’m sorry,” Adam replied.

“That was a long time ago and a world away,” she whispered in response.

“What’s your real name?”

“My real name?”

“I know your name can’t be White Buffalo Woman. Surely you have a Christian name.”

“Ruth. My parents named me Ruth.”

“That’s a pretty name.”

“My father had traveled alone to a foreign land and fell in love with a foreign woman. Mother’s favorite book in the Bible was the Book of Ruth. When I was born, Mother said I should be named for Ruth since my mother’s family had become my father’s family. When Daddy talked about coming West, Mother used to say, “Whither thou goest I will go.”

“How did Ruth become White Buffalo Woman?”

“That’s a story for another time. You should get some sleep.”

“I’m not tired.”

“I’ve lived among the Bannock and the Shoshone. Since I could recognize and treat the illnesses that plagued their peoples, they called me White Buffalo Woman after one of their greatest spirit helpers.” Going over to a bag supported on a tripod above a small fire, she dipped a wooden cup into the bag and returned to Adam. Kneeling down with the steaming cup, she supported the back of his head with one hand and held the cup to his lips. “Drink this tea. It’ll help you rest.”

He did as told and soon found his eyes feeling heavy. Dreams of a wagon journeying West played behind his eyes. A man and a young girl shared the reins to keep up with the other wagons. They encountered Indians, both friendly and hostile, hunted for food, buried their fellow travelers who died, and prayed together for the strength to continue on to their destination. One of the wheels on Ruth’s wagon began to come loose and her father had to stop to make repairs; the rest of the train continued on since he said they’d catch up. Several men circled back from the wagon train and hid in the sparse brush, waiting for a chance to jump the lone man and his vulnerable daughter. Seeing an opportunity, they killed the man and grabbed the girl, tearing at her clothes; the girl struggled and fought as hard as she could to get away. Just as she broke free and started to run, one of the men grabbed up a rope and swung the lasso to trap the girl. The rope caught her around the waist and she fell the ground; the men were upon her in seconds, tearing at her clothes again. She screamed and screamed but no one heard her cries for help. Adam wanted to kill those men for what they were doing to the girl but he couldn’t move to save her.

“Ruth!!!”

“Sssshhh, you’re having a bad dream.”

Adam startled awake to the feel of a cool cloth pressed against his face. He looked around the camp in bewilderment for a few moments; the dream had seemed so real. Placing a palm to Ruth’s cheek, he said, “You’re all right.”

“Of course I am. Just try to get some rest.”

He lay back against the log and tried to relax but he couldn’t stop thinking about that dream. It seemed so real, as if he’d actually been there. Feeling hands on his chest, he craned his neck to see what was happening; Ruth was unbuttoning his shirt. “What are you doing?”
“Your shirt is filthy and could use some laundering. Plus you smell a bit and could do with a bath.”

“I can’t walk. How am I going to bathe?”

Finishing with the buttons, she helped him sit up so she could remove his arms from the sleeves. “I’ll bathe your chest, arms, back, face, and wounded leg. Don’t worry; I won’t remove your pants.”

Adam blushed a deep crimson. He had a deep dislike of feeling completely helpless.

Getting the shirt free from his body, she took it over to a kettle suspended over a low fire. The red shirt and several of her own garments were placed in the water to soak before scrubbing. Picking up a fresh cloth and a water bag, she returned to her guest and knelt beside him. Dampening the cloth, she began with bathing one arm. He turned his head so she wouldn’t see the shame in his eyes; being at another person’s mercy wasn’t something he was comfortable with. Finishing his arms, she gently pulled him towards her to bathe his back. With his chin supported on her shoulder, he couldn’t help but breathe in the scent of her hair and skin.

Finishing, she gently pushed him away so she could help him lay back down. He held her upper arms, looked into her eyes, and leaned in to kiss her. Instead of kissing back, she gently pushed him away and back against the log. Embarrassed by his boldness, he again looked away as she bathed his chest; how could she want him after those men had tried to have their way with her?

Removing the bandage from his leg, Ruth crinkled her nose at the smell coming from the wound. Knowing that cleaning it was going to be extremely painful for Adam, she began a one-sided conversation in a soothing tone. “I’m going to have to make some repairs to my hut before winter comes on this year.” His moans tugged at her heart strings yet she continued her work. “Some of the thatch needs replacing and the smoke hole needs to be enlarged a bit. Straight saplings for poles are getting scarce around here, so I suppose I’ll have to look further than before. You might not think so to look at my home, but it’s very sturdy and warm on cold nights.”

Finally finishing, she wrapped a new bandage around the oozing wound and cleaned her knife on her skirt. Going over to the kettle, she began pulling the garments from the water to scrub them.

*

He was walking along a path that was going down slope towards a lake. Hearing splashing water, he decided to investigate. Several items of a woman’s clothing were hanging from low tree branches. He considered walking further to investigate when he suddenly realized she must be bathing. If he ventured forward and she saw him spying while she was unclothed, she might kill him. She might mistake him for one of those men who’d tried to hurt her so long ago. Footsteps in the brush startled him and he turned to walk back up the path.

“Did you need something?”

“Um….not really.”

“Why don’t you turn around to speak to me?”

“Because…because…”

“Yes?”

Shyly turning his head, Adam was surprised to see Ruth fully clothed and he let out a chuckle.

“What’s so funny?”

“I let my education interfere with my thinking for a minute.”

“Come down to the lake with me. The view is spectacular.”
The two walked down the path, hand in hand. Stopping on the toe of the slope, he drew in a surprised breath at the beauty he saw before him. “Now I know why my parents gave me my name. My folks must have known I belonged in the Garden of Eden.”

Ruth let out a delighted laugh and asked, “I wonder if they knew about me?”

He turned towards her, cupped her face in his hands, and kissed her gently. They briefly separated and then Ruth put her arms around his neck and drew him in for a more passionate kiss. When they separated, he steeled his courage and spoke his mind. “Ruth, I love you. When a man loves a woman, he gives her a token of that love.” He reached into his vest pocket…

*

He awoke to a gentle pressure on his shoulder. “I’m going down to the creek to catch some fish. Your stomach tells me you’re hungry.”

Adam tried to sit up; he didn’t want her to have to go to the lake alone. “Just lie down and rest.”

“I’m tired of resting.”

“It’s what your body needs. I won’t be too long. I keep a trotline in the creek so I’m guaranteed a meal.”

Before she left, she placed a hand on his face to check for fever. He was hot and his cheeks were flushed. His leg wound would need to be cleaned again to keep infection from taking hold and spreading.

As she drew her hand away, he caught her wrist and kissed her hand. It was then that he noticed she wore a simple wooden ring on her left hand. Had that been there? Where did she get it?

She gently removed her hand from his and stood. “Just relax and get some rest. I’ll be back.”

He listened as her footsteps faded away. Hadn’t they been to the lake? Why didn’t she catch some fish when they were there before? Had he given her that ring? 
Hearing footsteps, he assumed she was returning. He sat up to see how many fish she’d caught but was startled to see four Shoshone braves and a medicine man in a buffalo headdress. Fearing for Ruth, he tried to stand but one of the braves rushed to his side and held him down.

“Ruth! Where’s Ruth!”

Another brave rushed forward as he saw his comrade struggling with the white man. Between them both, they were able to subdue him. The medicine man stepped into view and asked, “Where is White Buffalo Woman? What have you done with her?”

“Why? Do you plan on killing her? I won’t let you!”

Adam began struggling again and the braves had a hard time holding him down. The medicine man, noticing the bandage, kicked the man’s leg. Adam let out a scream and passed out.

*

He had to warn Ruth! Racing down to the lake, he desperately looked and called for her. The Shoshone braves had tracked him and now he had to stand and fight. They probably thought they had the advantage since his leg was wounded, but he wouldn’t let the pain distract him. One of the braves charged at him with a knife and the two men fought for control of the weapon. Adam managed to roughly shove the brave away and the warrior slipped and fell on the knife, dying instantly. Fearing for his own life and Ruth’s, Adam rushed up the slope and straight into the medicine man. Two other warriors appeared and grabbed his arms, pinning them at his side. He tried to struggle and break free, but their grips were too strong.

“Tie him to a tree. We will use him to bring White Buffalo Woman.”

“You’re using the wrong bait. She won’t come!”

He felt a sharp pain against the back of his head and the world briefly dimmed. Rough hands tied his arms behind a tree trunk. The braves shot him menacing looks as they waited for Ruth to come looking for him.

*

“She is here,” the medicine man announced.

Opening his eyes, Adam was surprised to see Ruth speaking with the medicine man.

“You must come with us, White Buffalo Woman. Many of our people are sick.”

Noticing the warriors standing near her guest, Ruth asked, “Do the Shoshone make war on the wounded?”

“The Shoshone need the medicine of White Buffalo Woman. We will not harm him if you will come with us.”

“Ruth, don’t,” pleaded Adam.

She knelt down and gently caressed his cheek. “Everything’s all right, Adam. They will not coerce me.” Going over to the fire pit, she picked up a cup and dipped it into the bag of tea that was warming over the coals. Returning to Adam, she pressed the wooden cup to his lips and told him, “Drink.” He obeyed and wrinkled his nose at the bitter taste. She returned the cup to the fireside and went into the lodge.

Adam felt his eyes becoming heavy. She must have drugged him! That meant she was going with the Shoshone! He turned to look at the lodge and saw her coming out, dressed in a garment worked with dyed porcupine quills and beads. His eyes were losing their focus as she approached and his brain was having difficulty processing the words he was hearing.

“I am ready, Chato.”

“You come of your own wish?”

“Yes, my husband. Thy people are my people. Whither thou goest, I will go.”

“And this man?”

“His people will come for him.”

*

Adam felt himself being turned over by familiar hands and heard familiar voices calling his name. He opened his eyes and looked into worried brown eyes. “Pa?” Looking around, he wondered where he was. Something was missing from this place. “Ruth?”

“Dadgone, Adam, you look like you tangled with a grizzly,” said Hoss with a hand to his older brother’s forehead.

“And got beat,” replied Joe, looking under the bandage that covered Adam’s leg.

“The Shoshone took Ruth.”

“Who?” asked Ben.

“The girl who saved my life. She lives here.”

“A girl? Here?” asked Ben.

“Fever,” said Hoss.”

“She’s not imaginary, she’s real!” Adam said defensively. “Her name’s Ruth Halverson. There’s a Bible in the hut.” Ben nodded his head towards the hut and Joe quickly got up.

“How come the Shoshone took her, Adam?” asked Hoss.

“They thought she was a spirit, a reincarnation of one of their gods. I’m goin’ after her!” Leaping to his feet, he said, “I’ve got to find her!” As a warning to his father and brother, he said, “If you try to stop me, I’ll walk all over you!”

Inside the hut, Joe was looking for the Bible. Coming out of the lodge, he read aloud, “Olaf Halverson; daughter Ruth born 1840. Hey, there’s something inside marking a page.”

Adam snatched the bible from his youngest brother. He quickly opened the book to the marked page and saw a wooden ring; it marked the Book of Ruth. Gently grasping it, he held it at eye level for a better look. “I gave her this ring. I wanted to marry her.”

“If she left this ring behind, then she must have gone of her own free will,” said Ben.

“She did it to save my life, that’s why I’ve got to go after her.”

“If you do that, you’ll sign her death warrant for sure. She’s a girl, not a spirit woman. That’s true, the Shoshone think she is. If you destroy that belief in her, you destroy her and destroy them, too.”

“That’s right, Adam,” said Hoss. “If they believe in her that strongly, maybe she can be of some help to ‘em.”

Ben gently told his eldest, “You’ve got to let her go for now, Adam. Maybe someday….” Turning towards his younger sons, Ben said, “Let’s get some food.”

After eating, Hoss gently unwrapped the bandage from Adam’s leg and checked over the wound. Someone had used a knife to cut something from his brother’s leg. Hoss carefully bathed the wound with warm water and rewrapped it with a clean cloth. “Can ya ride?” he asked.

“Yeah,” was Adam’s only reply.

Hoss helped his brother mount up and then they headed back for the Ponderosa. Adam took one last look at the camp. Where was Ruth? Was she safe? Hadn’t he proposed to her and she accepted? Reaching into his vest pocket, he took out the wooden ring and held it tightly in his fist. She’d been real! Someday he’d find her and she’d again wear this ring.

The End
June 2008