Summary: When the Paiute are seen prowling around the Ponderosa ranch house, Little Joe Cartwright is desperate to help defend his home and family. Only, he\u2019s under orders to stay inside and work on his spelling . . . Disobeying his father\u2019s commands will take him to a place he never, in his wildest dreams, thought he would see.<\/p>\n
Rating: K+<\/p>\n
Word count: 3664<\/p>\n
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<\/p>\n
Little Joe Cartwright was not known for his patience, and right now, what little he had left, was making his left leg jiggle.<\/p>\n
\u201cGo on, go on, go, just go,\u201d he whispered under his breath.<\/p>\n
He was stood on a chair behind his father\u2019s desk, one knee on a cabinet, his foot balanced on a chair, as he waited for his father and older brother to leave the yard. They were taking their time about it\u2014checking their rifles and pistols before they saddled up. He could hear Hoss, his middle brother, as he worked at the forge by the barn; the steady thump-thump of the hammer on metal pulsed like a heartbeat across the yard. A shouted farewell and the sound of hooves drew Joe\u2019s attention back to his father and Adam who then rode out of view. A smile spread across his face, and he jumped off the chair, raced across the room, and up the stairs.<\/p>\n
Halfway up, he drove to a halt and a frown replaced his former grin. His pa\u2019s words as he\u2019d left the house repeated in his mind.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou stay inside, you hear. I don\u2019t want you running around while there are Indians near the ranch.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut Pa I can help fight.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re too young.\u201d<\/p>\n
Joe had stamped his foot and expelled a violent gust of air, which only made his father\u2019s finger rise ominously and point at Joe\u2019s face. He fought back another sigh.<\/p>\n
“He’s twelve years old, Pa,” said Adam, “I had my own gun before I was his age.”<\/p>\n
His words were met with a glare. \u201cThose were different times. And I\u2019m not discussing this further.\u201d<\/p>\n
Adam had shrugged and thrown a sympathetic glance to Joe.<\/p>\n
\u201cBesides, who says we\u2019ll need to fight. Once I\u2019ve talked with Winnemucca, he\u2019ll talk to his people, and it\u2019ll be resolved.\u201d<\/p>\n
The finger rose again.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou stay inside, work on your spelling.\u201d<\/p>\n
His father had stood in the doorway and raised a final eyebrow at his youngest.<\/p>\n
“And Hoss is in charge.\u201d<\/p>\n
Little Joe stood on the stairs and fumed. Hoss in charge. Just because he was bigger and older. And how dare they say he was too young. He could fire a six-shooter as well as his older brothers, better in fact! He stared down at the rifles which were all too big and heavy for him to use and wished the spare pistols weren\u2019t locked up. But then his smile returned. He cocked his ear in the direction of the barn and listened to the faint rhythmical clank of metal upon metal, and with a nod of his head ran upstairs.<\/p>\n
Five minutes later he was back in the main room, a satisfied smile on his face. He sat at the round table, his schoolbooks untouched in front of him, and dreamed of doing battle with the Indians. Oh yes. Let them come, he was ready.<\/p>\n
~~~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n
Joe had once believed the trunk at the foot of his father\u2019s bed to be a repository of treasures and secrets. Adam had brought it back with him on his return from college, and Pa had looked about as happy to see the trunk as he\u2019d been to have Adam home again. It had been spirited up to his room unopened, but Joe being an inquisitive\u2014Adam would say nosy\u2014boy, he\u2019d soon found an opportunity to slip into his pa\u2019s room and open the treasure box. He knew it was his father\u2019s old sea-faring chest, but what he found was disappointing, to say the least. Nothing but journal upon journal in his father’s neat hand. He’d hoped to find a shrunken head from Africa, or a diamond-encrusted blade from the Caribbean islands, or maybe a pouch of gold coins from Mexico. But no, nothing but dull, dreary books.<\/p>\n
But then he\u2019d spied a flat shiny object poking out from the pages of one of the journals. With the tips of his fingers, he\u2019d inched a star-shaped disc free of the book and stared at it with a quizzical frown. It looked like one of the ice crystals that formed on the windows in winter, but this was far bigger\u2014the size of Joe\u2019s hand\u2014and metallic. He had held it up to the light, marveling at the kaleidoscope of colors that flashed across the metal surface, and pressed the tip of his finger against each needle-sharp point.<\/p>\n
\u201cJoe!\u201d<\/p>\n
His father\u2019s voice boomed across the room like a thunderclap and Joe jumped to his feet. In his haste, the metal disc flew out of his hand and skittered across the floor where it came to a spinning stop at his father\u2019s feet.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat are you doing in here?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI . . . um . . .\u201d<\/p>\n
Ben stood in the doorway with his shoulders squared and hands clenched. His eyes flashed daggers at Joe. Bending down, he retrieved the mysterious object and, after looking it over for signs of damage, strode across the room to glare down at his youngest.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd why is my trunk open?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI . . .\u201d Joe hung his head. \u201cI thought there might be . . .\u201d Joe could feel his father\u2019s anger burn into him, and his words faded away.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou thought there might be what?\u201d<\/p>\n
Joe sighed. \u201cI thought there might be treasure.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTreasure?\u201d<\/p>\n
There was silence and Joe dared a peep at his father\u2019s face.<\/p>\n
Ben was looking at the open trunk and the object in his hand. But then their eyes met, and his father\u2019s face softened. He sighed and sat down on the bed.<\/p>\n
\u201cI guess it\u2019s my own fault for not showing you what was inside. There was no secret. I just, well, I was just so happy to have your brother back that I didn\u2019t think to show you.\u201d An eyebrow rose. \u201cYou could have asked though, instead of sneaking up here.\u201d Leaning over the chest, he trailed a finger along a grain in the wood. \u201cBooks. That\u2019s all. Just the journals I kept from my days at sea. A repository of memories.\u201d<\/p>\n
He glanced at the metal disc in his hand. \u201cAll except this.\u201d He held it up. \u201cNow this, this is a treasure.\u201d Joe watched as his father lowered the trunk\u2019s lid and patted the top. He sat and looked across at his pa, noting the reflective expression on his face. \u201cThis was a gift to me from the father of a sailor we rescued off the island of . . .\u201d Ben paused and frowned. \u201cMarikan, that\u2019s it. We nursed him back to health and then returned him to his home in Hakata. That\u2019s a city in Japan.\u201d The star flashed as Ben turned it over. \u201cWe were amongst the first people from our country to set foot there, you know. But I won\u2019t bore you with all that. Not now anyway. I\u2019ll just say the Japanese are an intriguing people, and as a gift for having saved his boy\u2019s life, the father, who was a samurai, gave me this.\u201d Ben\u2019s face sparkled as he held the object out to Joe.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut what is it, Pa? And what\u2019s a sam . . . sam . . .\u201d<\/p>\n
Ben smiled. \u201cSamurai. A samurai is a warrior. A man of great honor and pride. And this is a shuriken: a hidden flying dagger. They throw it at their enemies to disable them.\u201d<\/p>\n
Joe stared down at the object, his mouth open in wonder. \u201cHave you ever thrown it? Can I try?\u201d<\/p>\n
Ben took back the disc, \u201cNo, no, son, this isn\u2019t a toy. It\u2019s a weapon and could hurt someone. And it was a gift. A very precious gift.\u201d<\/p>\n
And after one last look, the metal star was placed back in the trunk, and not seen again.<\/p>\n
Not until today.<\/p>\n
~~~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n
Joe looked up from spelling the word Pennsylvania. He had gotten as far as P E N and had paused to wonder whether there was another N or not when he heard shouts outside. He was on his feet and at the front door in seconds.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy don\u2019t yer just tell me what you want?\u201d Hoss appeared to be directing his words at a tree that bordered the yard. \u201cCome outta there!\u201d<\/p>\n
His curiosity piqued, Joe had taken one step out of the door when an Indian emerged from the tree line and stood with his head held high, staring down his nose at Hoss. The man was tall and bare-chested with loose black hair flowing down his back. Lean, sinewy arms revealed a body with scarcely an inch of fat on its bones. The man\u2019s low eyebrows overshadowed narrow penetrating eyes which gave him a superior demeanor, as though his pride was injured at being spoken to in such a way by this mere boy in front of him.<\/p>\n
But his appearance barely registered with Joe because all Joe could see was the plains rifle pointed at his brother. He gasped back a breath and ran back into the house. A glance around the room, and he soon had his weapon.<\/p>\n
Gathering all his nerve and courage, he ran out of the yard to face their foe.<\/p>\n
\u201cGet away from my brother! Don\u2019t you hurt him!\u201d<\/p>\n
There was an audible gasp from Hoss. Joe tore his eyes from the Indian who had lowered his rifle and was watching the screaming lad with a cocked head and a frown darkening his eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cEr, Joe?\u201d Hoss reached out to Little Joe as though gentling a skittish colt. His eyes flicked to the object that Joe brandished like a club.<\/p>\n
\u201cJoe, gentle as you can,\u201d he took a tentative step towards him. \u201cJest put the guitar down. Real gentle like.\u201d<\/p>\n
Joe had grabbed the first thing he\u2019d seen which just happened to be Adam\u2019s guitar propped up next to Pa\u2019s chair. With his hands on the neck of the instrument, he was ready to club anyone who hurt his brother.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s Adam\u2019s guitar, Shortshanks. He\u2019ll skin yer alive if it\u2019s broke.\u201d<\/p>\n
Joe frowned. \u201cBut Hoss, the Indian.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t worry none about him. Jest, Joe, hand the guitar over, nice and easy like. Right now, I\u2019m more scared of Older Brother than this here fella.\u201d<\/p>\n
Throwing one last look at the tall Indian, Joe slowly lowered his make-shift weapon and let Hoss reach out and, with an exhalation of air, take it in his grasp.<\/p>\n
\u201cCooee, Little Joe, I thought we was in real trouble for a minute there.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cReal trouble? But Hoss\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
All of a sudden, two more Indians emerged from the trees. They seemed younger than the first man, but they shared his lean, muscular look and narrow piercing eyes. Joe had never been this close to Indians before. When he\u2019d seen them on previous occasions it had been at a distance and with his Pa right by his side. Now all he saw was loose black hair, breechclouts and what, to Joe, were the fiercest bows, complete with arrows, poised and ready to be fired.<\/p>\n
\u201cHoss, there\u2019s more Injuns!\u201d<\/p>\n
And then he remembered. He had a weapon! In all the disturbance it had clean gone out of his mind. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the small flying dagger, and with a savage cry launched it in the general direction of the newcomers. But Joe was no samurai and the disc curved away from them as it sliced through the air.<\/p>\n
And dropped right into the water well.<\/p>\n
In an instant, Joe forgot the three intruders. He ran to the well and gazed down into its deep dark depths. All he could see was the tiny distant pool of dark glistening water shining up at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh heck! Pa\u2019s gonna give me a lifetime of necessary talks.\u201d<\/p>\n
But then a glint of light on metal caught his eye. He leaned down further to see.\u201cI don\u2019t believe it. It\u2019s stuck in the wall. I . . .\u201d He shifted his weight so his belly was on the edge of the well. \u201c. . . I\u2019ve almost got it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cJoe, what in blazes are you going on about?\u201d<\/p>\n
But Joe ignored his brother\u2019s words and reached a little further. One of the metal spikes was so close, he could almost touch it. He just needed to stretch a tiny bit more. Just a little further. He shifted forward.<\/p>\n
He was aware of angry voices behind him. \u201cHe didn\u2019t mean nothin\u2019 by it,\u201d reached his ears. Another voice responded in another language. \u201cPlease, mister, he\u2019s jest a kid.\u201d<\/p>\n
But as Joe\u2019s head dropped lower down the well the voices faded, and when the tip of his finger nudged against the metal point, he let out a jubilant cry. \u201cI got it!\u201d Well almost. He just needed to stretch a tiny . . . bit . . .<\/p>\n
But then Joe\u2019s hand slipped past the metal star.<\/p>\n
And then his head.<\/p>\n
And his whole body.<\/p>\n
Joe was falling.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, Joe!\u201d Hoss\u2019s despairing cry followed him down the well.<\/p>\n
Joe\u2019s brain couldn\u2019t form coherent thoughts, only random words.<\/p>\n
Falling.<\/p>\n
Gonna die.<\/p>\n
Pa. Oh, Pa.<\/p>\n
But then he came to an abrupt stop. He was hanging upside down, dangling headfirst, with nothing but air between him and the bottom of the well. Yet something had a tight hold of his ankle. He tried to angle upwards to see what it was. But then he dropped again. His breath escaped him as he came to another jarring stop. \u201cHoss! Help me!\u201d he cried, as he tried to get a grip on the stone walls. But they were wet and slimy, and his fingers couldn\u2019t find a hold.<\/p>\n
It was then he realized that what had a hold of him were hands. Plural. Two hands. How could that be? He was too far down below the rim of the well for someone to be leaning over.<\/p>\n
He could hear distant voices echoing down the well, and then he began to edge upwards, a few inches at a time. A smile found his lips as the well walls grew lighter and less slimy and glorious sunlight heated his skin. And then strong hands had a hold of his legs and arms, and he was lifted into daylight and a tight body-crushing hug.<\/p>\n
\u201cJoe, I thought I\u2019d lost you.\u201d Hoss\u2019s voice was tight with emotion. Joe wrapped an arm around his older brother and closed his eyes in relief. But then Hoss pulled back and began to pat down Joe\u2019s arms, and over his ribs and back, even through his hair. \u201cYou\u2019re okay? You\u2019re not hurt?\u201d<\/p>\n
Joe grinned. \u201cI\u2019m okay. It was kinda exciting. Once I knew I wasn\u2019t going to die, that is.\u201d<\/p>\n
He grimaced as Hoss\u2019s fingers dug into his shoulders, as Hoss bent down to meet his little brother eye to eye.<\/p>\n
\u201cExciting? What were you thinking? You coulda drowned down there. All for what?\u201d<\/p>\n
Joe lifted his hand and opened his palm. Held tight in his grip, so tight it had drawn blood, was the metal star.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s Pa\u2019s. I grabbed it as I fell. It was a gift given him by some Japanese fella years and years ago. It\u2019s a weapon, see? You throw it like a dagger.\u201d His enthusiasm began to wane as Hoss glared at him. His voice rose in indignation. \u201cYou was in danger, Hoss, I needed to . . .\u201d<\/p>\n
And then Joe remembered. He looked past Hoss to see the proud Indian kneeling in front of the two younger boys, who were sat back against the well gulping in air as though exhausted from their exertions. They weren\u2019t much older than he was.<\/p>\n
Hoss straightened up. \u201cThey saved your life, Little Joe. This fella here,\u201d he pointed at one breathless lad, \u201che moved so quick, grabbed you as you fell. But then he went over, and the other little fella grabbed him.\u201d<\/p>\n
He squeezed Joe\u2019s shoulder as he stepped past him to the small party of Indians.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019 know how to thank yer. You saved my little brother\u2019s life. We\u2019re indebted to you. Heck, I don\u2019 even know if you understand what I\u2019m sayin\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThey understand.\u201d<\/p>\n
A woman\u2019s voice behind them made Joe and Hoss whirl around. At the edge of the yard, a baby in her arms, stood an Indian woman. At least that\u2019s what her buckskin dress, moccasins and the striped blanket held tightly around her and the babe suggested. This woman, though, had ginger hair parted down the middle and braided into two long plaits, and pale freckled skin. She moved forward and spoke to the tall Indian in a native tongue, who, with dark eyes and solemn expression, nodded to Hoss and Joe.<\/p>\n
\u201cMa\u2019am?\u201d Hoss\u2019s voice held a thousand questions.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m Sarah. This is my husband, Grey Horse, and my sons Little Mouse and Stares at Moon.\u201d She looked down at the child in her arms and pulled back the blanket to reveal a mop of red hair. \u201cThis little one has yet to earn her name. I have called her Anne.\u201d<\/p>\n
Joe looked down at the two boys who had saved his life.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey got green eyes, Hoss,\u201d he whispered.<\/p>\n
Sarah laughed. \u201cOur people call them Pui Bui, they are considered lucky.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSure were lucky for me,\u201d grinned Joe. \u201cBut you\u2019re . . . not one of them.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cJoe!\u201d Hoss frowned down at him.<\/p>\n
Sarah smiled. \u201cIt\u2019s alright. My story is not unusual. I was captured as a girl by the Cheyenne, who sold me to the Shoshone who in turn traded me to the Paiute. I have been with them ever since. They are my people now.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut Ma\u2019am, what are you doing around here? Our Pa an\u2019 older brother have gone looking for Chief Winnemucca as he\u2019s worried the Paiute might start raidin\u2019 again.\u201d<\/p>\n
Sarah grew serious. \u201cYou need not fear. Our people were crossing your lands to our summer village when my time came, earlier than I thought. We were left behind as I was delivered of my sweet Anne.\u201d<\/p>\n
Hoss\u2019s nose crinkled. \u201cBut why come here, to the Ponderosa?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy people know you are friends to the Paiute.\u201d She shrugged. \u201cWe needed food. But my husband is a proud man\u2014he will not beg. We took apples from your tree, water from your well, vegetables from your garden.\u201d<\/p>\n
Hoss\u2019s blue eyes twinkled. \u201cAskin\u2019 for a bit of help ain\u2019t beggin\u2019. Couldn\u2019t you yerself have come?\u201d<\/p>\n
The baby mewed and Sarah repositioned her higher in her arms. \u201cWe avoid trouble. The white man always seeks to rescue me from my . . . savage . . . captors.\u201d She met Hoss\u2019s eye. \u201cI do not require rescuing.\u201d<\/p>\n
Hoss nodded, an understanding smile on his face. “Well, you’ll stay, won’t ya? Let us thank you properly for what you did, and\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo . . . but thank you. If you could spare us some bread, a little meat, we have a long journey to catch up with our people.\u201d<\/p>\n
Hoss nodded. \u201cJoe, go see what you can rustle up from the pantry.\u201d<\/p>\n
Joe did as he was bid, and when he returned, he saw Hoss had led Chubb out of the barn and saddled him up. Hoss looked down at the bulky sack in Joe\u2019s arms. \u201cHop Sing\u2019ll threaten to go back to China when he sees what\u2019s missin\u2019 from the pantry.\u201d He tied the sack to his saddle horn.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere\u2019re you going?\u201d<\/p>\n
“I’m going to lead them across the bottomlands and pull a yearling from the herd. I know Pa\u2019d approve. Least we can do, considerin\u2019 what they did for us.\u201d<\/p>\n
His words were met with a long sigh. \u201cThey wouldn\u2019t have needed to if I hadn\u2019t . . . you know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, perhaps you\u2019ve learned something today, Little Brother.\u201d<\/p>\n
Joe nudged the tip of his boot through the dirt. \u201cAll I saw was an Indian.\u201d<\/p>\n
Hoss pulled the bridle over Chubb\u2019s head. \u201cYou didn\u2019t see the man, Joe. You saw what he was, not who he was.\u201d He finished arranging Chubb\u2019s mane over the bridle\u2019s browband and rested an elbow on the saddle to look down at his contrite little brother. \u201cThe way I see it, Joe, everyone’s a friend until we make them an enemy. You’d do good to remember that.” He heaved himself up into the saddle and looked over at Sarah and Grey Horse. \u201cYou ready?\u201d<\/p>\n
Sarah nodded and Hoss turned Chubb towards the entrance to the yard. \u201cPa\u2019ll be home before dark.\u201d He laughed. \u201cYou\u2019re in charge now.\u201d<\/p>\n
Joe glanced around the empty yard. \u201cIn charge of what?\u201d he shouted to Hoss\u2019s retreating figure. Hoss raised his arm in farewell and led the family out of the yard.<\/p>\n
He looked down at the metal disc in his hand. If he\u2019d had a better aim, he might have hurt that man. And yet they\u2019d not thought twice about helping him. Even after what he\u2019d tried to do. Joe shook his head. Hoss was right. He\u2019d not given the small Indian family a chance, just assumed they\u2019d come to do harm. He\u2019d not make that mistake again, not ever. He\u2019d never hit first, not without reason anyhow. And he\u2019d not fire first either, unless provoked, of course.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m in charge, huh.\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked around the yard. His pa and Adam were somewhere in the hills looking for Winnemucca, and Hoss was escorting the Indian family across the Ponderosa. Hop Sing was in town visiting one of his many cousins and all the hands were with the herd.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut there ain\u2019t no one here to be in charge of.\u201d<\/p>\n
He tucked the Japanese flying dagger into his back pocket and shook his head. Ain\u2019t that what Adam called irony? With a wry smile, he walked back to the house.<\/p>\n
The End<\/p>\n
Author\u2019s Note:<\/p>\n
Written for the 2021 Ponderosa Paddlewheel Poker Tournament.\u00a0\u00a0 The game was Five Card Draw and the words and\/or phrases I was dealt were:<\/p>\n
Indian
\nGuitar
\nGreen Eyes
\nShuriken
\nBottom of the Well<\/p>\n