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The Creek

"Now, boys," Ben Cartwright said to his three sons, "Adam is in charge while I'm gone - Adam and Hop Sing."

Hoss furrowed his brow and glanced at his older brother who was nonchalantly resting against the back of the settee, his arms crossed. "If we got Hop Sing, how come Adam's in charge of us?"

"Yeah," little Joe piped up. "How come…if we gots Hop Sing…how come…" Joe had forgotten Hoss' exact wording. "How come Adam's the boss of us?"

"Because Hop Sing has other things to tend to and now that the snow's melted and the pass is open, he's going to spend some time with his relatives in Chinatown. He hasn't seen them all winter."

"Well, why can't we go to Chinatown with 'im? Why we gotta have Adam shove us around?"

"Yeah, why we gotta have Adam shove us around?" Joe parroted.

Adam smirked. He no more wanted to be in charge than his brothers wanted him to be.

"Pa, why do I have to take care of them?"

"Because, one, you're a member of this family. It's not fall yet, you know – you're not off to school. And Hop Sing is going to Chinatown for a few days so you need to watch them."

"But now that the snow's mostly melted, I was going to visit Rick and Jeff and then…"

Ben aggressively poked his finger in Adam's direction. "Those Bonner brothers are nothing but bad news. The only good thing about all the snow was that it kept you from running with them for a while. You just get shed of them - and Carl Reagan too. I don't need to worry about you getting tossed in jail or worse while I'm checking on the headwater."

"Pa, we have other sources of water – why's Snake Creek so important anyway?"

Ben sighed. How could Adam be so smart and still ask such obvious questions? In an even tone, Ben replied, "Adam, the water up there is important to the summer grazing stock. Snake Creek should be running stronger by now so something is blocking the headwater and I need to find out what it is. Someone may be taking it upon themselves to divert it."

"We don't own the mountain, Pa, or Snake Creek. If the headwater is blocked…"

Ben interrupted. "And neither does anyone else for the moment. To divert it intentionally, well, that's a crime. Now, you're going to stay home and you're going to watch your brothers and I don't want to hear another word! Understand?"

"Sure, Pa. I understand. I understand completely. You're the father and I'm the son and I have no say in what I'm able to do or not do. I understand implicitly." Adam slowly rose from his chair and sauntered up the stairs.

And Ben fumed; that boy tried his patience to the utmost.

Ben strapped on his gun belt. "Now I should be back in three days - four at most. You two mind Hop Sing and Adam and if I hear of any trouble when I get back, well, there'll be even more trouble." He looked at his two youngest. "Now, behave." Ben glanced at Adam who had stretched out his long legs and crossed them at the ankles. He was waiting – for what, neither knew but he had a superior, amused look on his face.

Ben put on his hat after he shrugged on his heavy jacket. "Adam, carry my bedroll out."

Adam made a sound of disgust and unfolded himself. He walked past his brothers and picked up the bedroll that rested on the floor. He opened the front door and walked out, not saying anything.

"Give me a hug goodbye," Ben said to Little Joe. He bent down and the boy hugged his neck but refused to let go when Ben stood up; Little Joe dangled from his neck. Ben leaned back down. "Let go, Joseph; I need to leave."

Reluctantly, Little Joe let go. "Pa, I wanna go too. Take me with you!"

Ben went down on one knee to be eye-to-eye with his small son. "Now, Joseph, you can't. Trust me, it won't be fun. It'll be cold and miserable. You'll be happier here with Hoss and Adam."

"No, I won't! I won't be happy at all!" Joe put on his unhappiest expression.

Hoss intervened. "C'mon, Joe. Hop Sing's done makin' a cake for us afore he leaves. We can lick the batter bowl and the spoon. And maybe, once he makes that sugar icin', we can scrape the pot."

Little Joe's eyes widened and he grinned. "Okay. Bye, Pa." And Hoss winked at his father before ushering Joe into the kitchen.

Ben grinned and shook his head; Hoss was a wonderful boy, a loving brother and son with a gentle spirit and open heart. Then Ben's shoulders sagged a bit; now to deal with Adam.

Adam was finishing tying on the bedroll.

"Thanks, Adam."

"Welcome. Checked your cinch too."

Ben smiled. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you're happy I'm going to be gone awhile."

"Well, it's been close quarters all winter," Adam said. And that was where he left it.

Ben mounted. Adam stepped back.

"Now, Adam, I trust you to take care of things about here and not to…"

Adam interrupted. "I know, Pa, I know. Don't go visiting the Bonners or Carl and keep from drowning Little Joe in the horse trough."

"I wish you wouldn't say such things; Joe believes them."

"It was just a joke."

"I know, but…and make sure Hoss gets to school. He's missed so much since we were snowed in."

"Don't worry; I'm so sick of tutoring him all winter that I'd carry him on my back to school if I had to."

"Just get him there."

"I will. I promise."

Ben hesitated. He felt something else needed to be said but he didn't know what it was. Adam was almost a grown man and had been put in charge of his brothers before but only for a few hours – a day at the most. But he had to trust his eldest who had in the past, in many areas, proved himself competent. Maybe that was what was causing his uneasiness; Adam was so competent, perhaps he didn't need his father anymore.

"Bye, Adam," Ben said, kicking his horse. And he turned to see Adam standing on the porch. Adam then raised one arm and gave a slight wave.

~ 0 ~

The second night out, Ben slept fitfully; he had an upsetting dream about a bear attacking him and then suddenly, he had fallen into Snake Creek and was swept helplessly downstream to an unknown destination – and he passed Adam standing on the bank, waving goodbye. Ben awoke and sat up, his heart pounding. Just a bad dream – perfectly normal. Ben lay back down, pulling his top blanket up higher but couldn't sleep again; he rose to make coffee and start his day. By late afternoon, he had finally reached Snake Creek's headwater. He had followed the small rivulet in the deep ravine that should eventually, as soon as more snow melted, create a flowing, roiling creek.

And as Ben viewed the area, he saw what the problem was; the main water source was being blocked by a massive tumble of boulders and rocks –at least 15 feet at its highest - that had formed a natural dam, only allowing a small stream of water to flow. The rest was forming a pool behind the boulders.

Ben climbed to the top of the pile of rocks and boulders, causing smaller rocks to tumble and bounce on the ground but whenever a rock would slip out from under his feet or a handhold gave way, he paused to take stock of his position. Finally, at the top, Ben stood and scanned the vast pool that would grow larger and larger with the snowmelt. Normally, the snowmelt and spring rains would cause Snake Creek to run with great strength, a perfect venue for moving cut lumber down the mountainside. And if he could manage, Ben planned to purchase that side of the mountain and get into logging. But he'd need a strong, running creek to be successful.

Obviously, an avalanche of unknown origin had caused the tumble of boulders that finally stopped at a dip in the terrain although Ben could see rocks had fallen in other areas as well. He considered what could be done – if anything. Eventually, the melting snow would fill the depression to overflowing and the water would join the smaller rivulet, that is, if it flowed over in the same vicinity. If the water flowed over at another place where the boulders weren't piled as high, things would be different. Rivers often changed or altered course due to natural events and a creek, no matter how large it was, could do the same thing. Many a rancher had lost a water source and ended up paying to graze their stock on another rancher's land - and paid dearly. Water was a precious commodity and Ben had learned not to take anything the land had to offer for granted.

He walked about the edge of the piled stones, stepping up in some spots, down in others, trying to gauge just where the lowest point was. Perhaps he could bring a team up the mountainside and pull down a few boulders to make a dip in the barrier. But getting a team of draft horses up that high would take time and he'd have to lease them. But it was high up and even his horse had slipped a few times. If a draft horse slipped and tumbled, well…

Of course, dynamite! A few sticks of dynamite, strategically placed, would blast a hole in the rocks and Snake Creek's course would stay the same. Ben stepped onto a higher stone to get a better look and his bootheel slipped out from under him. As if in his dream, he realized he was falling. Unable to stop himself, Ben anticipated the shock of frigid water that would envelop him. And he thought of his sons and what they would do if he never came home.

The pool of water was deeper and colder than Ben had imagined, but he managed to climb out of the icy water, struggling to keep a foothold, his boots slipping as he tried to climb up the pile of rocks. He was drenched and looking over his shoulder he saw his hat floating on the surface of the pool; he knew it was lost and that he needed to find another way to cover his head. He also knew he had to start a fire and dry his feet and boots as well as his clothing.

Shivering, his teeth chattering, Ben quickly gathered wood. His leather gloves were little protection as the temperature was dropping rapidly with the setting sun. His feet became like ice and the atavistic part of Ben's brain screamed that he would die of exposure if he didn't work faster. At least the movement kept his blood flowing.

Having gathered enough wood for the time, Ben pulled matches out of his saddle bag. He thanked God that he hadn't kept the matches in his jacket pocket. He pulled one glove off with his teeth and with shaking hands, lit a match. With a hiss, it flamed and Ben held it close, feeling its warmth. He dropped it onto the tinder and waited, silently praying. The flame caught and rose a bit higher. Ben almost cried with relief. He warmed his hands and then, went out to gather more firewood to last the night. But at least he had his bedroll with the waterproof tarpaulin and wool blankets and his horse had the saddle blanket to unfold and partially cover it.

That night, as Ben rolled up in his blankets, his clothes placed over branches to dry, his boots near the fire but not too near, Ben closed his eyes and again thought of his sons. He quickly prayed for them and then, prayed he'd wake up in the morning.

His horse woke him. The animal was snorting, panicked, and trying to pull away from the tree branch to which it was tied. Then Ben heard the cougar. He reached for the rifle that lay beside him, ignoring the cold air that bit his bare skin. He aimed toward the sound. The cougar was on a ledge above them and was good-sized, about seven feet from nose to tip of its tail. It snarled and the horse, terrified, managed with one last, violent, jerk to snap the rope tether and take off. The cougar leapt off the rocks and started to give chase. Ben pulled the trigger. The cougar flipped sideways into the air and then fell onto the ground, its right front paw twitching twice.

"Well, I got the puma but lost the horse. Damn!"

~ 0 ~

"Joe asleep yet?" Adam asked. He sat looking into the fire.

"Yeah," Hoss said. "I told him three stories – made up two of 'em 'cause I couldn't remember others but that one about Goldilocks – he likes hearin' that "just right" stuff. He says you're like the Papa Bear – I'm like the Momma Bear and he's like Baby Bear."

Adam chuckled but didn't look up.

Hoss sat down on the settee and after a length of silence, said, "You think Pa's in trouble, doncha, Adam?"

"It's going on four days. He said three, four at the most and he's still not home."

Hoss, only 11, was worried and frightened but up until tonight, Adam hadn't appeared worried or in the least bit concerned and for Hoss, that had been comforting. After all, Adam was smart and did math, even knew a little Paiute and French. Adam would know if anything was wrong. But starting that afternoon, Adam had gone to the window at every sound, walked out into the yard before dusk and sat for a time on the porch. And he hadn't even taken a book with him. Hoss feared that his father's extended absence could mean he wasn't coming home – ever.

"Adam, what're we gonna do? Hop Sing ain't back yet to ask what to do. Maybe we should go stay with the Shaughnessys. They'll take care of us. I sure wish Pa was home."

Adam heard the fear in Hoss' voice and was struck with memories of his own distress as a child, all alone in a small rented room, fearing his father would never return to him. He desperately wanted to spare Hoss such soul-searing terror.

"He's probably not home yet because he's... maybe it snowed up higher. Bet he's camping under some outcropping, eating those pork and beans and hoecakes Hop Sing fixed." Adam smiled.

"Yeah," Hoss said, visibly relaxing. "It always snows up higher first, don't it? Yeah, he's probably keepin' him and his horse warm. Bet he's home tomorrow." Hoss grinned and then the smile dropped away. "But what if he ain't, Adam"

"Would it make you feel better if I went to look for him tomorrow?"

"Yeah, it would. And I'd feel a lot better iffen I went too."

"You have to stay with Joe."

"Well, we can take him along or have Mrs. Shaughnessy watch 'im. She's got Malchy at home and Joe can play with him. If I stay here with him, he'll nag and whine about you and Pa both bein' gone and I may have to slug 'im just to shut 'im up. And he'll wanta sleep with me and I swear that boy runs in his sleep."

Adam grinned; Joe was in motion all night as well as during the day. "No, Hoss, it's best you stay here."

"Okay, Adam., if that's what you think – I mean Pa put you in charge and all. I guess I'll just turn in. Night."

"G'night, Hoss."

Adam waited until he heard Hoss' door close. Then he went into the kitchen and began to gather supplies. His father must almost be through all his food by now so he'd need food for them both. Adam's mind raced. And rope. He'd need to bring a rope and his knife and… There would be no sleep tonight – too much to do and since his mind was racing and jumping from one thing to another, Adam went to the desk, pulled out a sheet of foolscap, and began to make a list of needed supplies. In this way, order prevailed and it eased his anxiety; Adam had no use for chaos.

A sound woke Adam – whispering – someone was whispering. He raised his head from the desk top and saw Little Joe and Hoss standing in front of the desk, looking at him.

"What you doin' sleepin' down here?" Hoss asked.

"Yeah," Joe asked. "What you doin' sleepin' down here?"

Adam sat up and rubbed the back of his neck and then stretched. "I guess I fell asleep. What are you two doing up this early? What are you dressed for?" Adam noticed that his brothers were wearing heavy jackets, hats, and Joe held a small valise. "You two running away from home?"

Joe tugged on Hoss' jacket sleeve. "We aren't, are we, Hoss?" Hoss shook his head, no.

"Well, Adam, it's like this," Hoss said.

Joe piped up, "Yeah, Adam, it's like this. Tell 'im, Hoss. Tell "im what it's like."

"I'm goin' with you and Joe's goin' to the Shaughnessy's. And that's what it is."

"Yeah. That's what it is," Joe said. He nodded his head once in imitation of Hop Sing, for emphasis.

Adam looked at his brothers, considering. "Okay. Fine. Have you had breakfast yet?"

Hoss and Joe looked at one another, puzzled.

"You mean you ain't gonna argue with us?"

"No, I'm not going to argue. I'm going to change clothes and then get together what's on my list of supplies. You go in the kitchen and get something for you and Joe to eat. After that, Hoss, milk Maisie and then put her calf back with her. I'll make a mash for the hogs with the milk. Give her hay and enough water to last a few days."

"What 'bout me, Adam?" Joe asked. "Lemme do something too."

"Well, since we'll be gone maybe two, three days, you can feed the chickens. Give them a whole bag of feed, okay, Joe?"

"Sure, Adam. A whole bag!"

"Spread it out, okay?" Joe nodded and Adam rose from the desk and then sat back down, pulling out another sheet of paper.

"Who you writin?" Hoss asked.

"Yeah. Who you writin'?" Joe repeated.

"Leaving a note in case Hop Sing or Pa comes home before we do. They'll be worried if we're not here."

Hoss nodded and ushered Joe to the kitchen and Adam wrote, the nib of the pen making a soft scratch as it moved gracefully across the surface.

~ 0 ~

Adam and Hoss rode slowly up the acclivity. Their horses had already come close to stumbling a few times.

"Adam, can't we go faster?" Hoss asked.

"No, we can't. Just keep looking around to see if you notice anything."

"Ain't much water in the creek, is there?"

"No." Adam scanned the creek banks on both sides and beyond. He was sure it was the way his father had come; it was only logical to follow the creek to its source. And Hoss had early on pointed out to Adam what he saw, what indicated to him that a horse had been that way, going upstream – and recently.

"How do you know that?" Adam had asked when Hoss pointed it out.

"It's just the way the ground and the grass look. See there?" Hoss stopped his horse and Adam pulled up as well, looking where Hoss pointed. "Ain't much grass yet so's you can see where the weight of a horse's been. And see those sticks and how they been kinda smashed out in places? That's what a horse shoe done. Don't you ever notice the way animals leave marks behind, like the hogs and the cow?"

Adam shook his head, no, as he kicked his horse again. "I swear you're part Indian – or part hog. They know where to root."

"Ain't funny, Adam." Hoss clicked to his horse and they moved on.

The brothers rode in silence for the next few hours until Hoss spoke up. "Gonna be gettin' dark soon and I'm powerful hungry." Hoss looked up at the sky.

Adam pulled up his jacket collar. "Yeah, we should stop and make camp. Let's just go a little farther to that small stand over there." And then Adam's horse nickered and another horse answered him.

"Think that's Pa?"

"It might…" Adam stopped. His father's buckskin gelding came walking from the trees next to them. It seemed to be limping slightly.

"That's Buck!" Hoss said. "That's Pa's horse…but where's Pa?"

Adam dismounted and holding onto his horse's reins, he slowly walked toward his father's horse, noticing that although the horse still wore the rope halter, he had snapped the lead rope. The two horses snuffled and touched muzzles, pushing against each other in recognition. "Pa must have been camping and somehow, Buck got loose." Adam gently took hold of the nose band. "See, Buck's wearing only this halter. Pa unsaddled him, unbridled him, and tied him off. "

"Why'd he run away?"

"Now, how the hell am I supposed to know that!" Adam snapped. He was unsure of what happened, feared the worst, and Hoss' question made him furious. Why did everyone always expect him to have all the answers?

"You don't hafta bite my head off!"

"You're right." Adam said, "I'm sorry, Hoss."

"That's okay. I guess you're 'bout scared as I am. Are you, Adam?" Hoss waited, his brow furrowed.

Adam considered. Hoss was still a child in many ways despite his size, and no matter what, someone had to be reasonable, be in charge. Adam forced a smile. "No, because actually, this is good news."

"How's that?"

"Well, except for a slight limp here, Buck is fine. And if something scared him and he went running, then that's how he hurt his hoof. You know how slippery the ground is – wet and slick in spots. See how he has mud up his legs? So, what that means is that Pa was making camp, maybe even sleeping when something scared his horse."

"Like what, Adam?"

Adam summoned his patience. "Something. But Pa sleeps with his rifle when he's camping; that's what he taught us – remember?"

"Yeah," Hoss' eyes brightened and he smiled. "Yeah. He said that he sleeps with that rifle like he's married to it."

"That's right," Adam said. At least Hoss' fears were assuaged. "Now let's make camp, okay? You get wood for a fire and I'll unsaddle the horses. I sliced some of that cured ham and we've dried apples to go with it and a loaf of sourdough bread. I also packed the fried chicken Hop Sing left and the rest of the hoecakes. Now hurry; it's getting dark fast."

~ 0 ~

Ben sat down, exhausted. Despite the cold, he had broken out in a sweat early on from exertion. He had been loath to leave the saddle behind but knew he couldn't carry that – or drag it – and manage his saddlebags and the bulky bedroll all at the same time. But the horse blanket which had slipped off his horse as it pranced about in fear before snapping the rope, was also folded into his bedroll; it could serve as a pillow.

He looked about. The trees set back from the creek bank were sheltering, but he was leery after the cougar. Scorpions and mosquitoes weren't yet active but it was warm enough for bears to venture further from their dens – and wolves knew no season. But Ben didn't feel he could go on much longer and darkness was quickly falling. He gathered enough wood to last the night and built a fire to warm his hands. He had tied his bandana under his chin to keep his ears warmer, and imagined he looked like a very unattractive grandmother. Sitting by his fire, Ben ate the little food he had left – two stale hoecakes and a few slices of dried beef but not before giving thanks for the meager food. Ben sighed and leaned back against a tree, wrapped in his blankets, his rifle in his arms. Eventually, his head dropped forward and soon he was asleep, looking more like a dead man slumped against a tree than a slumbering man on a desolate mountainside.

~ 0 ~

Adam kicked Hoss' boot sole. "C'mon, big boy – wake up!"

"Dang, Adam. It ain't even light yet." Hoss rubbed his eyes and slowly pushed aside his blankets. "And it's cold too. Ain't it s'posed to be warmer by now? It's spring ain't it?"

"Early spring. Here." Adam handed Hoss two hoecakes. "Put some of these apples in the middle. Tasted good."

"Tasted? You done eat already?"

"Who do you think built up the fire and saddled the horses while you snored away like a drunk old man? Now hurry up. I'm going to water the horses – there's enough in the creek bed to give them a good drink - and fill the canteens. C'mon! Hurry!"

Hoss mumbled his complaints but filled his mouth with the hoecakes and apples and set about packing up.

It was a little past noon and they were making slow progress.

"Adam, I'm hungry. We gonna eat soon?"

"Not yet. Wait for a while."

"I don't mind waitin' but my stomach sure does."

"Tell it to have patience."

"Adam, my stomach don't listen to nothin' I say – we been arguin' my whole life so far and it always wins! We could eat and ride….what you lookin' at, Adam?" Adam had pulled up his horse and was staring into the distance. Hoss followed Adam's gaze. He stood up in his stirrups and squinted into the distance. "Looks like someone walkin' but what's he got…"

Adam didn't reply, just kicked his horse to move a bit faster and Hoss followed and the closer they came, the more the man became recognizable. The man raised his head toward the noise of approaching horses and dropped his bedroll and saddlebags.

Ben suddenly felt light as air, as if the burdens he had been carrying, both physically and mentally, had dropped away. Two of his sons had come for him and the matter of Snake Creek, well, that could be tended to later. Ben stood, his hands on his hips and watched Adam and Hoss ride the intervening yards, his horse following behind them. Finally, they reached him and dismounted.

"Took you long enough to find me," Ben said.

Adam grinned. "That's because we argued about whether or not we wanted to."

Hoss laughed. Then he looked at his father, unshaven and not his dignified, well-groomed self, winked at Adam and said, "Pa, what you got on your head? Looks kinda pretty. Reminds me of old lady McCrory at church. She always wears them flowered scarves 'stead of bonnets and hats 'cause she ain't got too much hair. You takin' on her style? You hidin' a bald spot or somethin'."

"Yeah, Pa," Adam added. "Indians scalp you?"

"No respect for your father!" Ben feigned anger. "I raise you and you turn on me! How sharper than a serpent's tooth is an ungrateful child!" But Ben smiled, held out his arms and both sons walked into his embrace.

"Thanks, boys. I am truly grateful to see you."

"We are too, Pa. We are too," Adam said.

"I know I am," Hoss said. "'Cause now we can stop for lunch. Hungry, Pa?"

~ Finis ~