The Antidote
The steer moved slowly toward the glistening waters of the pond, thirst driving the creature in an instinctive search for water. A scorching heat had parched the land from its usual lush greens to a mosaic of dull browns and faded earth tones, and the steer’s instinctive need had brought it to the bright ribbon of water. Head hanging low, the bovine drank eagerly, knowing only that it needed liquid to survive. At last, thirst slaked temporarily, the steer moved off in search of relief from the heat. Reaching the shelter of a towering stand of Ponderosa pines, the creature stood placidly enjoying the shade.
When the first pain hit, the animal raised its head, perplexed. Another spasm ripped through the steer’s body, and it screamed in agony. Again and again it raised its voice in the only response it knew, as convulsions gripped its intestines. Thrashing wildly and tossing its head from side to side, the creature started on a blind run, seeking to escape from the forces that tormented it, but to no avail. At last, exhausted and blind from pain, it sank to its knees. The cries lost intensity as it lost its fight for life. Collapsing onto its side, the steer closed its eyes one last time and died.
Hours later, two horsemen approached the site where the carcass lay. One pointed at the mound in the grass, and they both rode quickly toward the body.
“Over there, Adam; that’s what the buzzards were circling,” Hoss Cartwright said. He was almost on top of the huddled heap as he spoke. He dismounted quickly and instinctively raised a hand to shield his face. “Whew, it smells already. Ain’t been dead more’n half a day, though. This heat’ll rot things quick.”
His brother dismounted as well and crouched beside the carcass, a frown marring his chiseled features. “That’s the fourth one today. What do you think killed it, Hoss?”
Hoss rocked back on his heels. “I don’t rightly know,” he mused quietly. “They all had that same foamy froth around their lips, like this one does. And it sure don’t look like it died easy. It could be a disease of some type, or mebbe poison. I just don’t know.”
Taking his hat off, Adam swiped at the sweat on his brow. “Sure is a hot one,” he commented, squinting up at the sky. The sun glinted back, riding high in an endless sea of blue. “Some sort of disease associated with this heat, maybe?”
Hoss squinted at the steer, and then shook his head. “I ain’t never seen no cow die of heat that quick, Adam. It ain’t been hot more’n a day or two. I think I’ll follow the trail this’n made and see what it was doin’ before it died.”
Rising to his feet, Adam gazed at the trail of broken grasses and trampled dirt. “It doesn’t look like it’s going to be too hard to figure out where it’s been. Let’s get started.”
Hoss shot his brother a wide grin and clapped him heartily on the shoulder. His grin turned into an outright chuckle when Adam was almost propelled off his feet by the slap. “Now that’s the spirit, older brother. This shouldn’t take us long at all.”
The two men set off, easily following the wide trail left by the distressed steer. It wasn’t long before they approached a small pond that glistened dully in the light, its surface muddied by weeds and water plants. The small body of water had been created by a natural rock fall that had dammed off the creek, keeping the water trapped in a hollow depression in the rolling hills. Hoss inspected the water carefully, walking slowly around the edges of the pond. Tracing the source of the pond’s water, he noted that it was fed by a small stream that extended off into the distance, and that the tracks along its edges showed plainly that the steer had stood here to drink. He bent to examine the water closely, a strange expression on his face. As a sudden thought struck him, he saw Adam reaching beneath the surface of the water, bringing cupped hands up to his lips with a small amount of liquid carefully pooled in them.
Before the dark-haired man could drink, Hoss launched himself across the small distance that separated them. “Adam, no!” He knocked full-tilt into Adam, causing the other man to stagger and fall to his knees while the bright drops splashed to the thirsty ground.
Adam glared at Hoss, an expression of disgust crossing his face as he watched the water dissipate into the dry soil. “What do you think you’re doing, Hoss?” he asked angrily. “You almost broke my ribs.”
Hoss stared at Adam in shock, the color draining from his face with startling rapidity. “It’s the water, Adam. The water’s poisoned.”
Adam looked at Hoss skeptically. “What makes you think it’s the water?” he asked.
“I’ve been thinkin’ about the tracks. From the way they look, that steer was fine until it entered that grove of trees. It stopped here for a drink before it went up to those trees, and the tracks show that it’s been followin’ the creek for quite a distance. Stands to reason there’s somethin’ wrong with this water.” Hoss stood and gazed off at the horizon, shading his eyes with his hand. “We need to do some riding in the next coupla days, I think. The stream don’t look right. It’s usually movin’ a lot faster, and the water isn’t usually so muddy and dull-looking. I want to follow it to its source and see what’s goin’ on.”
Adam stood next to him, trying to find the object of Hoss’ interest. Frowning, he finally turned to the big man. “Are we going to stand here playing a guessing game, or are you going to tell me what you’re looking for out there?”
Hoss jumped, startled from a deep reverie. “I was jist tryin’ to remember the course of this stream. The one that feeds into the pond. If I’m right, then we’re gonna have to ride along that stream and see if we can find the source of the poison. I’ve got a hunch we’re gonna find sick cows all along this water.”
Adam’s frown deepened. “I hope you’re wrong, brother. I really hope you’re wrong.” He turned away, pulling Hoss along with him. “We’d better go tell Pa what we’ve found. He’s not going to be too happy.”
Hoss nodded his agreement, and the two men rode rapidly away from the water toward the ranch house and their father. It was a quiet ride as both men speculated on the meaning of the morning’s events.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Ben Cartwright was standing in the dusty yard at the front of the house, surrounded by a group of ranch hands who were all talking excitedly and waving their hands wildly. He nodded at his sons as they rode in, but then turned his attention back to the group.
Exchanging questioning glances, Adam and Hoss hastily dismounted and moved to join their father. As they got closer, they could hear bits and pieces of the conversation.
“Dead cows ... ”
“For miles ... ”
“Deliberate killings ... ”
Ben was trying to absorb what the men were saying, but it was coming at him too fast. Finally, he held up his hand to silence the babble. “Now hold on a minute,” he ordered firmly. “Let me see if I’ve got this right. You’re saying that cattle are dying? How many? All over the Ponderosa, or just one area? What are they dying from? Is this a deliberate killing or a sickness?” He shot the questions out one by one and then stopped, waiting expectantly for the men to provide him with the answers.
Before they could start, Adam stepped in smoothly. “Wait a minute, Pa. Hoss and I have got some news as well. We found four dead ones today. All within a mile of Fallon Creek. Hoss thinks there’s something wrong with the water.”
Adam stopped as Ben held up his hand again. The older man grimaced. “You found four?” He turned back to the men. “And how about you fellas? How many did you find?”
The men did a quick tally. “Six altogether, Mr. Cartwright,” Billy Higgins spoke up. He seemed to have appointed himself spokesman for the group. “They were all scattered up and down a 10-mile stretch of land.”
Hoss stepped forward quickly. “Did that land border Fallon Creek?”
Billy thought for a moment. After confirming nods from several of the men, he replied, “Yep, I think all of the cows were found within a mile or two of some part of Fallon Creek. What are ya sayin’, Hoss? Is Fallon Creek poisoned?”
Hoss turned worried blue eyes on his father. “We got 10 dead beef cows, Pa. And from what I’m hearin’, Fallon Creek is the most likely source of poison. We gotta find out what’s goin’ on and quick, or we’re gonna lose a lot more’n 10 cows before this is all over.”
Ben nodded his agreement, but before he could say anything more, he suddenly blanched. Turning stricken eyes to his older sons, he wiped a shaky hand over his face. “Little Joe is bringing that herd of horses home. What route would he be taking?”
Adam’s face was grim, his eyes reflecting his father’s worry. “He’d be coming right down along the borders of Fallon Creek, Pa.”
“I need some horses saddled, Billy.” Ben’s orders were sharp and clear. He turned back to his sons. “Go get cleaned up and tell Hop Sing we need some supplies. We’re going out to meet Little Joe.”
Adam and Hoss headed for the house. They didn’t stop to ask questions or debate the idea with their father. They were all in agreement. Little Joe was driving a herd of horses home from a distant ranch. He’d taken the stage early in the week on a buying trip, accompanied by one of the ranch hands. His wire conveying the success of his journey and his travel plans lay on Ben’s desk. If he wasn’t reached in time, they could lose all the horses that he had bought. But the thought that spurred the men onward was that they could also lose Little Joe.
~~~~~~~~~~~
A small bay mare paced at the front of the slowly moving herd of horses. Joe Cartwright glanced over his shoulder in a quick check to make sure the herd was moving together and that everything was all right. He caught a glimpse of Pete Thompson from the corner of his eye and he lifted his hand in a small wave. Pete waved back, and Joe felt a glow of contentment wash over him. The buying trip had been wildly successful. He’d purchased some topnotch breeding stock for his father and had managed to get them for several dollars a head less than he’d been expecting. He couldn’t wait to see the look in his father’s eyes when he presented the bill of sale. Joe allowed himself a smug thought in Adam’s direction as well. His older brother would have to admit that Joe could handle a business deal pretty well these days. His only regret was that he wasn’t riding Cochise. The horse loved journeys like this almost as much as his master did. The mare was a good one but no match for the little pinto.
Joe eyed the terrain carefully. They were angling across some rolling hills. He figured they would intersect with Fallon Creek in less than a day, and then they could move the herd along its length toward the Ponderosa. He speculated on the advantages of increasing the pace and reaching the creek sooner, but it didn’t seem worth the potential wear on the horses. He’d be home soon enough.
Turning again, Joe signaled Pete, then reached to pull his neckerchief over his mouth as he moved to switch places with the ranch hand. He’d been careful not to have Pete ride drag the whole way. Eating dust was an unpleasant part of the job, and he didn’t want any rumors about the boss’ son not doing his share to reach his father’s ears. He knew his father would ask the man about the trip. Ben always inquired about the welfare of his men, and he wanted them well-treated. Joe had enough friends among the hands at other ranches to know that some of the other owners were not quite as solicitous of their men, and it rankled him to see how they were treated. It pleased Joe to know that the Ponderosa was considered one of the best places to work in the whole territory. The quick smile and tip of the hat that Pete gave him as he rode past Joe to the head of the herd was thanks enough for making the switch. Joe could see the trail dust hanging thick and heavy on Pete’s clothes and smiled. They’d both need baths when they reached Fallon Creek.
~~~~~~~~~~
“Pa, we’re gonna need to stop for the night.” Hoss spoke gently, his face lined with worry. “The horses can’t take much more, and it’s getting too dark to ride safely.”
“We’ll keep going a while longer.” Ben’s answer was clipped, brooking no argument. His worry was fueled by the remembrance of the bodies of the dead cows that they’d found dotting the banks of Fallon Creek. More than he cared to think about. Something was poisoning the water supply, but no one could tell what it was. The thought of Joe unknowingly drinking from the water struck terror into his father’s heart. He’d dispatched riders far and wide to alert anyone in the area to keep away from the stream until the cause of the poisoning could be discovered. But Ben knew that the best chance of warning Joe came from his father and brothers reaching him in time.
“Hoss is right, Pa.” Adam tried to speak calmly, knowing that his father wasn’t interested in hearing what he had to say. “We can’t go on any farther. We’re all beat.”
“And Joe might be drinking that water right now, Adam. Have you thought of that?” Ben snapped. Then he flushed with remorse. “I’m sorry, son. That was uncalled for. I know that you’re just as concerned for Joe as I am.” He sighed heavily and held up his hand to signal a halt. “Let’s pick a spot and set up camp for the night. We’ll get an early start. I want to be riding before dawn.”
Within a few minutes, Hoss had located an acceptable spot to camp. They settled their horses in for the night, taking care to water them from the canteens and not the creek water. There was little talk around the campfire that night as the tired men rolled themselves into their bedrolls. Although silence reigned underneath the vast star-swept sky, none of the Cartwrights slept well.
Ben had them up and riding before dawn, as he had promised. He kept the horses moving as fast as he dared to push them. It was late in the afternoon when he felt a stab of relief course through him. He saw a small herd of horses milling around near the banks of Fallon Creek. With a shout of excitement, he directed Buck toward his son.
~~~~~~~~~~~
With a smile of contentment, Joe spotted the familiar landmarks that meant the herd was nearing Fallon Creek. The horses sensed the water as well, and the herd picked up its pace slightly. It wasn’t long before they all could spot the meandering course of the stream as it picked its way through the rugged terrain. Joe signaled to Pete, and the two men urged the horses toward the water.
“This looks like a good place to stop for a break, Pete,” Joe called over the din. He saw Pete nod, but couldn’t hear the reply the man gave him.
Joe sat astride the bay, a smile of pleasure on his face as the horses surged forward and began to drink from the water. Pete dismounted and knelt by the stream, dipping huge handfuls of the water first to drink and then splashing it over his face and neck. By the time Joe had dismounted, Pete had stripped off his shirt and boots and was wading into the deeper part of the water. Joe smiled in sympathy. It had been a long, hot journey, and Joe, too, felt the need to be clean. He knelt beside the water and started to follow Pete’s example, cupping his hands and preparing to drink. The sound of a horse in distress distracted him, however, and the water fell from his hands. Standing quickly, he moved to see one of the horses limping slightly, a stone wedged deeply into its hoof.
After taking care of the horse, Joe again thought about his own needs. He eyed Pete’s activities longingly. The other man was now fully submerged and splashing about merrily. But Joe, trained by Ben Cartwright, wouldn’t allow himself the luxury of a bath when there was work to be done. He decided a quick drink from his canteen would have to suffice. He moved away to set up the camp, starting a small cookfire and putting a pot of beans on to bake. Joe filled a coffeepot with water from the creek and set that near the flames as well. He then went to make sure the horses were settled on good grazing land and that none of them were straying.
When Pete at last emerged from the stream, he found Joe just about ready to dish up the beans. The exuberant young man looked at Joe and smiled impishly. “Whooee! I feel better’n I have in a week, Joe. You shoulda come in, too.”
Joe smiled back. “Someone had to make sure we had something to eat,” he replied without heat. “I’ll get my dip after supper.” He scanned the herd again. The action had become instinctive throughout the drive. The horses all appeared to be grazing contentedly, and Joe turned his attention to his meal preparations. “Sit yourself down, partner. These beans are about as ready as they’re ever going to be.”
The two men enjoyed the simple meal, although both were becoming heartily sick of trail food. With the knowledge that the Ponderosa was only a couple of days’ ride ahead, they could stomach the beans a little better. Joe knew that Hop Sing would cook up a storm to welcome him home, and his stomach rumbled in anticipation of the meals to come.
Pete took over the cleanup chores because Joe had cooked the meal. It was an easy tradeoff the men had instituted at the beginning of the ride. Everyone on the Ponderosa knew that the boss’ sons didn’t shirk when it came to doing their share of the work, and it made for pleasant traveling with them. Pete and Joe were friends; the fact that Joe was the boss’ son rarely crossed the other man’s mind.
Joe made his way to the edge of the stream, anticipation of the cooling bath rising as he stripped off his shirt and boots and knelt to splash the water over his face and chest. He took a long drink of the cool water and prepared to wade out for a cleansing swim.
A shrill scream of agony ripped through the evening air. Joe froze, his head swinging up rapidly. He quickly located the source of the sound. One of the mares was writhing in agony, head down, hooves splayed apart; another shrill whinny was forced from her throat.
Joe sprinted across the rocky ground, never heeding the sharp stones that tore into the bottom of his bare feet. As he approached the distressed horse, he slowed, hand outstretched, a low-voiced croon on his lips. The entire herd was shifting uneasily, and Joe knew it wouldn’t take much to send them stampeding across the ground away from him. He finally reached the mare’s side, and his eyes widened in alarm. The horse was clearly in bad shape, her body contorted with some inner agony. Her eyes were wide, her breathing harsh and ragged.
Looking back over his shoulder, Joe called for Pete, then turned his attention back to the mare. With a sudden surge of fear, he heard another horse let loose with the same cry of agony. The second horse displayed the same symptoms as the first. Joe screamed for Pete again, wondering why the other man didn’t come. Turning to look for the errant cowhand, his heart started hammering in fear. Pete lay in a crumpled heap on the ground, halfway between the fire and the herd. He, too, was writhing in agony on the grass.
~~~~~~~~~~~
The herd of horses shifted nervously. Instead of grazing, they milled about with a sense of urgency that indicated they were close to flight. Ben grew worried when he realized that he didn’t see anyone tending the horses. Joe should have been working with them, or, if not him, then Pete. The Cartwrights passed the remains of a small cookfire. Hoss dismounted quickly to examine the ashes and found them cold to the touch.
“Joe!” Ben’s voice was strident as he called for his son. “Joe, where are you?”
Adam had been circling the herd in an attempt to spot some trace of the missing men. His eyes fastened on several dark shapes in the grass and he called for his father. Ben and Hoss were at his side in an instant, their eyes clouding with concern. The bodies of several horses lay scattered in the grass. Again, Hoss bent to examine them. “They look like the cows did,” he said quietly. “They died in a lot of pain, thrashed around more’n a little. They ain’t been dead for too long, though. I wonder where Little Joe and Pete got to.”
Just then several of the other horses began to scream and convulse, a living example of what the others had gone through before their deaths. “It’s the water, Pa. I’m sure of it. Somethin’s got it all stopped up, somewhere.” Hoss sounded calm, but his face was pale as he watched the horses’ struggles. He pointed to the creek. All three men were well aware that the water, normally a dancing little stream, was slow, almost motionless.
“Where’s Joe?” Ben’s face was set in stone, but his eyes were alive with the agony of not knowing what had happened to his son. “Adam, we’ve got to find Joe.”
Adam shared a commiserating look with his younger brother. Then he rode closer to Ben’s side and grasped the older man’s shoulder firmly. “I’ll take a look around, Pa. He’s got to be here somewhere. Joe wouldn’t abandon the horses without a good reason.” He set off at a slow trot, his eyes alert for signs of his brother.
After giving Hoss quick instructions to care for the horses to the best of his ability, Ben rode in the opposite direction. Hoss looked around with a grim expression on his face. He knew that in all likelihood whatever ailed the horses would be affecting Joe too. He wanted to have as much information on hand as he could when his brother was found.
Adam rode toward a copse of trees about half a mile from the little herd. His eyes riveted on a dark shape that lay at the base of one of the tall trunks. He gently nudged Sport to a faster pace, and the shape took on form and substance. It wasn’t a rock, as he’d first suspected. A subtle flash of color indicated that it was a person, clothed in a colorful red checked shirt. Adam knew Pete owned one like that; he’d seen Pete wear it on several occasions. He raised his gun in the air and fired off a round to alert his father and then rode toward the body as fast as Sport could carry him.
A curse escaped his lips when Adam realized there were two bodies under the tree, not just one. Leaping from Sport’s back, he threw himself on the ground next to them. He touched Pete’s face and discovered the man was cold and still. A search for a pulse proved futile, and Adam moved on to the other man.
Little Joe lay huddled in a ball, clutching spasmodically at his abdomen. He was gasping for air, and licked dry lips as he retched continuously. There was nothing left in his stomach to expel, though, so the result was a wracking case of dry heaves that was clearly causing him great pain. Adam noticed that he was shirtless and his boots were missing; the soles of his feet were torn and bloody.
“Joe.” Adam’s voice was gentle as he gathered the quaking form into his arms. “We’re here, Joe.”
Joe turned unseeing eyes to the black-clad figure and moaned incoherently. It was clear that he was in another world, one that consisted of overriding pain. The sound of pounding hooves alerted Adam to his father’s presence. “Pa, over here!” he called unnecessarily. “He’s alive.”
With a wordless cry, Ben was off his horse and next to his sons. “Oh, Joe,” he crooned softly. “What’s happened to you, boy?” He gently pried Joe loose from Adam’s arms and pulled him into his own.
Adam stood quickly, clenching his hands in anger. “It’s that damned water!” he cried. “What could have poisoned a whole stream, Pa? And what do we do for Joe?”
Ben turned his dark eyes on his son, and Adam blanched. Instead of his father’s usual self-confidence, he saw only confusion and misery. Ben Cartwright, usually a pillar of strength, had no answers, only fear. Adam’s face crumpled, and he slipped to his knees. “He’ll be all right, Pa. He has to be! We’ll find the answer somewhere, and Joe will be just fine.”
Ben smiled sadly. “I hope so, son. I truly hope so. Signal Hoss. We’re going to ride for home as quickly as we can. Joe needs a doctor – now!”
~~~~~~~~~~~
“Ben, we’ve got a real problem on our hands. I hope you sent some men to post warning signs along the length of Fallon Creek.” Doctor Martin’s voice was grave as he paced the length of the great room. He only stopped long enough to sip from his cup of coffee, then resumed his rhythmic march.
Ben nodded grimly. “I sent the hands out as soon as we realized what the problem was, Paul. There should be warnings up everywhere by now. That’s not going to stop the animals, though.” He sighed tiredly. “I’ve had Adam and Hoss working to move the herds as far away from the creek as we can, but we’ve already lost a fair number of cows. We’ve found a couple of places where some fallen rock had blocked the course of the stream, slowing the flow of water down dramatically. We think it’s allowing the poison to concentrate where normally it would dissipate with the flow of the water.”
Sinking down on the settee, Ben buried his face in his hands. “I can stand losing some livestock, but I can’t lose Little Joe. Isn’t there anything more you can do?”
Paul sat down next to his old friend and placed a sympathetic arm around his shoulder. “I’ve done all I can for the moment, I’m afraid. I’m going to stay here and monitor Joe’s progress. He’s got an unusual assortment of symptoms — thirst, stomach pain to the point where he can’t keep anything down, a difficulty swallowing. But the convulsions are what we need to watch at this point.”
“Mr. Cartlight, you come quick. Li’l Joe awake.” Hop Sing’s voice came from the top of the stairs, causing both men to rise swiftly.
Slipping quickly into the room, Ben hovered over the bed where Joe lay. Joe’s skin gleamed with a translucent quality under a sheen of sweat. “I’m here, Joe. How are you?” He held a glass of water to his son’s lips and urged him to drink.
Joe’s throat worked as he struggled to swallow, and a grimace of pain crossed his face. Weakly, he tried to push the glass away. “Can’t drink, Pa,” he whispered. “I can’t seem to swallow.”
Ben exchanged worried glances with the doctor. Paul stepped forward, laying an experienced hand on Joe’s brow. “You’ve got to make yourself swallow, Joe,” the doctor said urgently. “If you don’t get some liquid into your body, you’ll become even more dehydrated. That, in turn, will cause more stomach problems for you, and you don’t want that.” He took the glass from Ben and held it to Joe’s lips again.
The doctor waited patiently while Joe struggled to finish the entire glass of water. “That’s better,” Paul said with some satisfaction. “I’m going to have Hop Sing bring up some broth, Joe, and I’m going to expect you to finish the whole bowl.”
Nodding, Hop Sing slipped silently from the room. The broth was already simmering on the stove and would take only a moment to fetch.
Ben sat in the chair next to Joe’s bed, pulling it forward so that he could sit close to his son. He maintained a constant soothing pressure on Joe’s shoulder, alarmed at how weak and pale Joe appeared. “How do you feel, Joe?” he asked again, worried over Joe’s lack of responsiveness.
A spasm of pain made Joe clutch at his stomach again, and his skin grew even paler. “I’ve been better,” he gasped out.
Ben glanced at the doctor in concern, but he only received a slight shake of the head in response. The doctor had done all he could, and knew that the only thing they could do now was monitor Joe’s symptoms.
Opening the door to Hop Sing’s soft knock, Paul stepped back as the Chinese cook entered the room bearing a tray. “Ah, here’s Hop Sing with your broth, Joe. I’m going to let your father help you with that. Ben, I’m going to go lie down for a while, and then I’ll come in to relieve you. I don’t want Joe left alone for any length of time.” Ben nodded distractedly, already absorbed in the task of getting Joe to eat.
Paul walked to the guest room that Ben had provided for him, deep in thought. Joe’s symptoms added up to something. He just needed to find out what. Instead of sleeping, he pulled out his medical text and started leafing through it. There had to be something in the tome that would help him.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Adam entered the room softly, taking care to shut the door quietly so as not to disturb the sleeping figure in the bed. His face reflected deep lines of concern and worry as he looked at Joe’s ashen face and clammy skin.
“Is he still having trouble keeping food down, Pa?” he asked in a whisper.
Ben nodded silently, exhaustion evident in every line of his body. “The doctor doesn’t know what else to do for him. He says he’s done everything that he can. He’s still reading, though, and has sent wires asking for help to every physician he knows.”
Sinking into a chair by Joe’s bed, Adam reached out a hand to stroke the limp arm that rested on the bedclothes. It didn’t seem possible that this still, lifeless figure was his irrepressible little brother. He hated to tell his father the news that he had received, but he knew that there was no avoiding it. With a deep breath, he said softly, “There’s more, Pa. We’ve had the hands searching all along the course of Fallon Creek. We’ve found about 20 more dead cows and a huge number of small animals.” His face was grave as he continued, “Pete’s family is holding the funeral tomorrow, and I said that one of us would be there.”
Ben nodded quickly. “I’ll go, but I want someone here with Joe at all times. He’s still having some seizures. He can’t be left alone, or he’ll hurt himself.” Ben closed his eyes against the weight of his troubles. “Anything else?”
Adam hesitated, but knew that he had no choice. “We found the bodies of three miners up toward the head of the creek, Pa. Someone’s been operating a mine up near the headwaters of Fallon Creek. I think I need to ride out there and see what I can find. We need to find some indication of the source of the poison so that we can help Joe before it’s too late.”
Ben sighed again and put his head in his hands. “But why have all these other people died, and why is Joe still with us? What’s made the difference for him, Adam? I think that’s the clue that we aren’t paying attention to. The next time Joe wakes up, I’ll ask him about his trip again; he might be able to provide us with some answers.”
Adam braced his arm around his father’s shoulders, a gesture rarely made. “I’ll sit with Joe for a while, Pa. You need to get some sleep. I’m going to leave in the morning, at first light. We’ll find out what’s going on, I promise you.”
Ben stood grudgingly, his hesitation about leaving Joe’s side evident for his son to see. “All right, I’ll go for a little while, but I want you to get some rest too, Adam. If you’re riding out in the morning, you’ll need to get some shut-eye as well.” As he reached the door, Ben turned back. “Thank you.” His eyes conveyed much more than the simple words, and Adam smiled gratefully in return.
Settling back into his chair, Adam reached to take Joe’s hand in his. Ben shut the door softly behind him, knowing he’d left Joe in the best possible hands.
~~~~~~~~~~~
The horse screamed again and again, its head thrashing in agony. Joe saw Pete kneeling beside it, his body contorting in the same anguish. Joe tried to run toward them, desperate to help, but his feet were mired in quicksand, and he couldn’t move. Over and over again, Pete screamed for Joe to help him. Tears running down his face, Joe tried to move, but the quicksand held him fast. Pete screamed one last time and died, his hands stretched out pleadingly toward Joe.
With a hoarse cry, Joe awoke, struggling to orient himself after the harrowing nightmare. He heard someone speaking in low tones, and he strained to make out the words. At last, he turned his head and saw Adam bending over him, dark eyes full of worry and shadowed with exhaustion.
“Shh, Joe, it was a nightmare. You’re all right.” Adam repeated the words over and over until he caught the flash of recognition in Joe’s eyes.
“Adam?” Joe turned his head frantically. “Where’s Pete? Pete’s sick; we’ve got to help him. The horses are dying, Adam!”
“Joe, it’s okay. You’re home; don’t worry about the horses. They’re being cared for.” Adam spoke soothingly. “Do you remember what happened, little brother?” He smoothed a cool, damp cloth over Joe’s sweaty brow as he spoke. He saw Joe sigh in relief at the touch.
“We stopped to camp for the night,” Joe murmured at last. “Pete went swimming while I cooked. Then, just as I was about to go for my swim, all hell broke loose. The horses were screaming, and when I looked back for Pete, he was lying on the ground. It was a nightmare, Adam. I couldn’t help any of them. I dragged Pete over to the trees, but by the time I got him there, it felt like my guts were coming loose. I’ve never felt anything like that before. I don’t remember much beyond that.” He lay back against the pillow, clearly exhausted from his long recitation.
“Shh, sleep now, little brother,” Adam murmured. “You’ve got to save your strength.” He kept up a soft litany of words until Joe’s eyes flickered and then closed, his struggle to stay awake over for the moment.
Adam sat back and considered Joe’s words. It sounded as if Pete’s swim had been the thing that cost him his life. Joe hadn’t had a chance to bathe in the tainted water, while Pete had. Pete might have ingested more of the water than Joe, or perhaps the poison could be absorbed through skin. It gave him one more piece in the puzzle he was constructing. Now all he needed to do was find out what was poisoning the water.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Adam started his search at the spot where Joe and Pete had stopped to camp for the night. He easily found the traces of the fire, but all signs of his brother’s presence had been removed. Hoss had collected the saddle bags and Joe’s shirt and boots which had been lying by the creek. Riding upstream, Adam scanned the surrounding countryside carefully. His face was grim as he occasionally happened on the body of a small animal that had died after drinking the creek water.
For the better part of two days, Adam rode through terrain that grew increasingly more rocky and rugged. Soon the creek bed was cutting a path through a small canyon, causing steep, irregular stony walls to rise on either side of the rushing water. He squinted into the distance. At a narrow junction of the canyon, it appeared that the rocky walls had been tossed about and haphazardly strewn around the sides of the creek. Adam was forced to dismount as he picked his way carefully through the debris.
Climbing up over the side of the cliff face through the gaps left by the fallen rock, Adam found himself facing a mine entrance. It had been gouged into the rock with the use of dynamite and pickax, both devices leaving telltale traces on the stone. Huge rocks and debris littered the sides of Fallon Creek, lasting evidence of the effect of man on nature. It was clear that the debris had altered the natural flow of the water. Hastily scrabbling around, Adam created a makeshift torch and entered the dimly lit interior of the mine.
He held his torch high and quickly realized that the initial cavern was being used as the miners’ living quarters. From the personal effects scattered around, it was evident that several miners were currently calling the cramped quarters home. Adam walked farther into the mine, the torch spreading a feeble light before him. He hadn’t gone very far when a distinct click sounded behind him. Turning slowly, his hands held high to indicate that he didn’t want any trouble, Adam faced a motley collection of men clustered in a tight knot at a side entrance to the main tunnel.
“Yer trespassin’. Ya’d best leave now.” The spokesman’s voice was grim. The man looked unwell, and his face and hands were covered by lesions of some type.
“I’m just looking around,” Adam said carefully. He saw that the rest of the men appeared to have the same skin problems as the first, and his eyes narrowed a bit. “There’s been a sudden rash of poisoning all along the creek, and I came to find out what was happening.”
The miners exchanged glances, and several shuffled their feet nervously, but the spokesman held his ground. “Yer on private property. This here mine belongs to us. We blasted it, we’re claimin’ it, and you ain’t welcome in it.”
Adam nodded slowly, not a hint of the wildly churning thoughts showing on his stoic face. He spoke calmly, but with a hint of steel. “I’ll go, but if I find that your mine is causing problems for the whole valley, then I’ll be back.” He turned his back on the group then, and headed for the entrance of the dark hole.
Leaving the mine hastily, Adam rode further upstream, watching as the water narrowed and became a trickle. Soon, he was at the source of Fallon Creek, a tiny bubble of water that welled up from under the ground with surprising force — the remnants of what had been a powerful river in antiquity.
Thoughts churning, Adam returned home. He had some detective work to do, and a glimmer of an idea was roiling in his chaotic thoughts.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Ben walked slowly down the stairs, rubbing at his eyes with weariness. He stopped at the landing, surprised at the sight that met his eyes. Adam sat in a chair in front of the fireplace, lost in a thick medical book through which he was paging in search of descriptions of diseases. Hop Sing was perched on the hearth, a thick hand-bound book in his lap. It was filled with neat rows of the beautiful Chinese characters that only Hop Sing could decipher. Ben knew the second book well; it was Hop Sing’s own storehouse of all that he knew of the healing art.
The two men were so dissimilar in looks and yet so alike in their posture and attitude that Ben smiled, albeit a bit grimly. Joe was just barely hanging on, and nothing that Paul Martin did seemed to help. Ben had lost track of how many telegrams had been sent out in a quest to find the answer to the mystery of the poisoned stream. As yet, no response had been forthcoming. And now, the two men before him continued the search, doggedly pursuing every lead that would help them save the lives of everyone who came in contact with the tainted waters of Fallon Creek.
As he descended the last several steps, Ben’s thoughts turned to Joe, sleeping now, with Hoss at his side to guard against the convulsions that still wracked his body from time to time. Joe spent his time in a feverish doze, haunted by nightmares that left him thrashing in fear and talking to apparitions that no one else saw.
Ben crossed the room and placed a gentle hand on Adam’s shoulder. “Any luck?” he asked, unable to keep the note of despair from creeping into his words.
Adam raised his dark eyes to his father, and Ben flinched when he saw the exhaustion and desolation in that look.
“No, not so far, Pa. But I know the answer is out there somewhere, and I’m going to find it.” Adam’s voice was husky with emotion, and he scrubbed a hand over his face as if to wipe off the tiredness.
Hop Sing let loose with a string of Chinese and stood abruptly, bustling off without a backward glance. Ben and Adam exchanged knowing looks, and they weren’t surprised when the little man came back shortly bearing a tray piled high with herbs and little pots with Chinese characters on them. As the cook disappeared up the stairs, the Cartwrights couldn’t help but chuckle. Hop Sing was fiercely devoted to his family — Joe in particular — and he would leave no stone unturned in his quest to ease the young man’s pain.
A brisk knock at the door made both men swing their heads around, and Ben strode quickly over to pull open the heavy wooden portal. He was greeted by the sight of Charlie Morris from the telegraph office, who stood clutching a sheaf of papers in his hands.
“Got a stack of telegrams for Adam,” Charlie announced briefly. “I knew you’d want ’em right away, so I brought ’em out from town.”
Ben smiled gratefully. “Thanks, Charlie, I really appreciate it.” He fished in his pocket and brought out several coins, which he offered to the other man.
Charlie waved the coins away. “It was my pleasure, Mr. Cartwright. Little Joe’s a friend of mine. If I get any more, I’ll either bring ’em out myself or send someone.” He tipped his hat briefly and spun on his heel, striding across the yard to mount his horse.
Ben stared after him, his eyes soft as he thought of the friendships that Joe seemed to form so easily. Bringing himself back to the present, he returned to Adam’s side with the stack of telegrams. “Here are some responses, son. See if there’s something in here that will help.”
Adam hastily riffled through the telegrams, stopping to peruse several in detail. He grew still over one, letting out a long, slow whistle. “Pa, it’s possible that the creek has been poisoned by arsenic.”
Ben’s eyes grew wide. “But how would an entire stream become poisoned with arsenic? Wouldn’t someone have to do that deliberately?”
“No,” answered Adam, shaking his head. “According to this, the blasting from that mine could have dislodged enough arsenic-laden rock around that stream to leach poison into the water. From the looks of the mine, I’d say those men did plenty of blasting. Over time, the poison would saturate the ground and the water, building up the levels high enough to poison everything that ingested the water. Because the debris from the mine blocked the water flow, it didn’t flush out the poison as easily as it could have.”
Ben frowned. “But what do we do now? How does this help Joe?”
Adam grew thoughtful. “Joe is still alive because he never got the opportunity to drink much of the water. I think eventually, as the poison leaves his bloodstream, he’ll recover, but the level of toxin in the stream is very high right now. Those miners showed signs of advanced arsenic poisoning, but obviously they aren’t getting it in lethal doses. For some reason, the concentration of poison gets higher as you move away from the mine. Probably from exposure to all that slag from the mine, as well as the fact that there are several areas where the stream is almost blocked completely. I think if we clean up the debris and haul the rubble away from the creek, the problem might eventually solve itself.” He sighed. “I know you wanted an instant cure, Pa. But I don’t think there is one.”
A fierce look flitted across Ben’s craggy face. “I don’t think those miners will take kindly to any interference, son. This could mean a fight.”
“I know, but we can’t let the poisoning continue,” said Adam. “We’ve put up signs along the length of Fallon Creek and around the pond where Hoss and I found the first steer. That’s the end of the line for the creek. But think of all the animals that will drink from that water unknowingly. We can’t have a death trap flowing through the Ponderosa.”
Ben nodded. Hop Sing was dosing Joe with his ancient Chinese recipes, and the doctor seemed encouraged by the progress the young man was making. There was no telling what the long-term effects of the poisoning would be, but they’d deal with that when they had to. “We’ll gather the men together and ride out in the morning.”
~~~~~~~~~~~
Adam signaled the men to stop. They’d reached the entrance to the mine with no incidents along the way, hauling water along for both men and horses in order to avoid drinking from the tainted creek. Now they faced the source of their problems. Once he knew what he was looking for, it was clear to Adam that the miners had blasted rock indiscriminately, with little thought for the consequences of their actions. It would take months to clear away the debris, and, most likely, years for the stream to recover from the effects of the devastation. He grimaced at the thought of the problems to come.
Ben rode to Adam’s side. “No sign of them, but you said they stayed deep in the mine the last time you were here. We’ll take a small group inside with us and talk to them. I’d like to settle this peacefully, if we can.”
With a nod of acquiescence, Adam dismounted and signaled for three or four of the men to join them. They advanced toward the mine entrance in a tight cluster, walking warily, not knowing what to expect from the men within. They were within a few feet of the dark entrance when a bullet ricocheted off a rock to Ben’s right. The group from the Ponderosa scattered and took cover behind the boulders that littered the ground in front of the mine.
“Hold it right there,” a voice commanded from inside. “Don’t come no closer.”
“We just want to talk.” Ben raised his voice to a shout. “We don’t want any problems.”
“Then why’d ya come with an army at your back?” the miner replied. “Git yorselves outta here or we’ll kill the lot of ya. We don’t want no claim jumpers around here.” He let loose with another shot for emphasis.
Ben exchanged a look with Adam, and then he stood, waving his neckerchief as he did so. “I just want to talk,” he repeated. “Let me and my son come talk to you. The rest of the men will stay here.”
Grudgingly, the miners stepped forward, showing themselves at the mine’s entrance. In the light of day, the sores that besmirched their bodies were clearly evident. “Jist the two of ya, then. The rest better stay away,” the leader called.
The Cartwrights advanced forward, taking care to keep their hands away from their guns as they walked. As they approached the little group of miners, Ben schooled his face to a bland calmness. The last thing he wanted was to let his anger at the men’s callous disregard for human life to show on his face. When they were just a few feet away from the miners, they halted.
“Speak yer piece.” The miner stood with arms crossed, his face shuttered and still.
“Your mine is poisoning the water supply in Fallon Creek,” Ben said carefully. “We need to shut down your blasting operation and clear all the debris from around the creek. Over time, the poison in the stream will dissipate, but only if you clear out of here.”
“We ain’t goin’ nowhere,” the miner shot back. “We got legal claim to this mine, and we aim to keep it.” His men nodded fiercely, and an angry muttering arose from the group.
Ben held his hand up quickly. “I’ll pay you whatever you want for the mine. I’m going to clean it up one way or another. You’re poisoning my land, and I’m not going to stand for that. I have money, and I’ll buy you out. You can find another claim, or just retire on what I give you, but I won’t have you killing our animals or the people on the Ponderosa.” His implied threat was clear: If the miners didn’t accept his offer, Ben would fight.
Several of the miners shuffled their feet, darting nervous glances at the ranch hands that were clearly ready to start shooting. They pulled the leader back a bit and a hasty conference ensued.
After a fierce argument that involved a very heated exchange between the leader of the group and several of the others, the spokesman again stepped forward. His face was set in a fierce scowl, and it was clear that he was in a rage. Spitting a stream of tobacco juice on the ground at Ben’s feet, the man spoke.
“Looks like ya win, Cartwright! I assume ya must be Ben Cartwright, since yer so free with mention o’ money and buying things from people. But it ain’t gonna come cheap! This mine coulda made our fortune, and yer gonna have to come up with enough to make it worth our while ta leave the place.”
Adam felt a sudden surge of relief sweep through him. He’d been expecting a fight. “Let’s sit down now and draw up an agreement,” he said quickly. He wanted to get the deal settled before the miners had a chance to change their minds.
Ben signaled for the men to stand down, and he and Adam walked confidently toward the knot of miners. With a grudging nod, the leader motioned for them to enter the mine, already proclaiming his conditions for the selling of the claim.
~~~~~~~~~~
Paul Martin finished his examination and sat back with a smile on his face. “He’s looking much better, Ben. I think he’ll be able to get up in a couple of days.” He pasted a mock scowl on his face. “I said a couple of days, Joe, not today!”
In the bed, Joe groaned. “Hey, Doc, I’m so tired of lying here. I really feel much better. Are you sure I can’t get up for a little while today?”
Ben laughed to see the return of the feisty young man he knew as his son. “I heard the doctor say a couple of days, Joe. Not today. Not tomorrow. Now you lay still and cooperate, young man,” he ordered with a feigned fierceness.
No one could predict the long-term effects the arsenic would have on Joe, but the fact that his contact with the water had been fairly minimal gave them hope he’d recover completely. Ben knew that Joe wouldn’t take kindly to being hovered over, so he manfully squelched his worries for the future and concentrated his attention on the smile that adorned Joe’s face. He couldn’t stop himself as he reached out to ruffle Joe’s curly hair. “It’s good to see you smiling again, son,” he murmured. “Don’t worry; you’ll be up and into trouble soon enough.”
Joe grabbed his father’s hand and held it tightly. “I know, Pa,” he responded quickly. “I’ll try to behave; I really will.”
Ben snorted. “Try that blarney on someone else, Joe. You don’t have me fooled for a minute.” The two men exchanged fond glances, then Ben escorted Paul from the room.
As they descended the stairs, Paul inquired about the cleanup efforts at the mine.
“It’s going to be a long process. But we’re taking care to haul in water for the men and animals, and they’re making progress.” Ben frowned a little. “I just wish we knew for sure that what we’re doing is going to be effective.”
Paul clapped Ben on the shoulder affectionately. “You can only do what you can, Ben. That’s all anyone expects of you. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Given time, nature might just heal the damage done by those miners. That’s what you’re buying here: the time to heal.”
Ben nodded, his thoughts already back on his sons; Hoss and Adam up at the mine directing the cleanup, and Joe lying in bed upstairs. Time. It was a gift he’d been given, and he wanted to enjoy it. Bidding the doctor goodbye, Ben headed back up the stairs. He didn’t trust Joe to stay in bed, and he was determined to prevent an escape. Life was slowly returning to normal on the Ponderosa, and Ben’s spirits rose. Time. It was a precious gift.
*****End*****
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