I wanted to apologize for a similarity between the orange dust development of this story and a later Bonanza episode. Apparently there was an episode where the appearance of dust on a man's boots was a clue to a mystery, but I hadn't seen that episode when I wrote this.

That's happened to me a couple times actually! I've written a story and then found out later on that it was in an episode that I hadn't seen yet. lol But yeah, I didn't want you thinking that I intentionally stole from one of the shows. Any part of my story that's that close to an episode is coincidental. ;) Anyway, on with the story!

Thank you as always for reviewing! I've been out of the story loop for quite a while so it's fun reading them again. :)

~CHAPTER 10~

Joe was the first to appear in the doorway, hope in eyes as his brother who motioned them all inside the cell. "What is it, Hoss?" he asked eagerly.

"Take a look at this," Hoss said as he pulled out his jackknife and chipped away some more of the orange dirt.

"What are you doing?" Roy asked, coming into the cell and frowning at the mess the big man was making of the floor. Adam chose to take a place of quiet observation leaning up against the jail cell door.

"I got me an idea," Hoss said as he flaked off more of the dried mud. Grabbing a big chunk, he rolled it over in his hand a few times to knock away the mud reveal the orange chalklike substance underneath. Smiling at his discovery, he turned his attention to his younger brother who now beside him. "Joe, you recognize this dirt?"

Joe shook his head no, not seeing how he could possibly recognize it.

"Remember when you and me went huntin' last year? That big buck took us all the way up near Chimney Rock?"

Joe nodded.

"Remember that canyon he led us through, that one hidden way up in them mountains, in that far corner of our property?"

Joe nodded again, this time finding the connection his brother was aiming for. "Of course! Hoss, you really think it's the same?"

Hoss then turned to the Sheriff. "Roy, the only place I've ever found this type of colored dirt is in a canyon way up in the North section of our hills. We don't hardly ever get up that far ceptin' when Joe and me was chasin' that buck. There was this tiny canyon up there I never remembered seein' before, but I sure as shootin' knew I was never gonna forget it. The whole dadburn place was covered with this orange dust and dirt. Sticks to yuh like glue. Took us a month o' Sundays to get it outta our clothes."

"Hop Sing was screaming mad at us for days after we accidentally tracked it in the house," Joe smiled at the reminiscent thought.

"Hoss, are you absolutely sure?" Adam asked as he stood straighter.

"Adam, I ain't never been more sure of anythin' before."

Not doubting his brother for a second, Adam continued the progression of thought that was undoubtedly going on in all their minds. "Then some time recently this Sam Chapman was at that canyon. Supposing he has accomplices" he looked pointedly at Roy, "that just might be where their camp is located. If they know as much about the Ponderosa as they seem to, they might also know we rarely ever go up there."

Joe put his hands on his hips, ready to ride. "Well, let's go then."

Hoss dropped the pieces of dirt and brushed his hands as the three of them headed for the front door. Roy suddenly called out, stopping them short.

"Now boys wait a minute, supposin' you're right about the dirt'n all. You go up there, figurin' Chapman does have accomplices and that's where their hideout is? I can't let you go up there, not without me. It's too dangerous. And I can't leave the body."

The three Cartwrights had the same answer on their tongues, but Adam was the first to voice it. "Roy, it's on our property, and with or without you we're going up there." Adam was instantly regretful of his harsh tone, especially after all that Roy had done for them. But there was nothing that was going to stop them now that they might be this close. His voice softened as he could see the look of helplessness riddling the Sheriff's face. "I'm sorry, Roy... we have to." The last few heartfelt words were felt by everyone in the room. Spoken with so much hidden emotion, their meaning was inescapable and encompassed everything the three of them had been through. But what everyone caught in Adam's voice was a resilient hope of finding all the answers they so eagerly sought.

Roy could all too easily see the same tired, anxious look in their eyes, a look only brought on by months of sorrow, disappointment, worry and fatigue, and for the first time it seemed as if he truly... truly understood everything those men, whom he regarded almost as sons, had been through. He had nothing more to say but an anxious and somewhat fatherly, "Be careful, boys."

Although the sun was at its pinnacle, the clouds had blanketed the sky once again, making the air damp and even more chilling as the three started out from the jail. Upon leaving the town, they headed southwest and toward the upper left tip of the Ponderosa. They knew it'd be a long hard ride up into country usually uninhabited year round. As was every bit of their property, it was quite beautiful country, but the section they were riding for was rarely used because of its inaccessibility. Among tall mountains and rocky terrain wasn't the best spot to do many of the operations of the Ponderosa. Since so few people ever traversed its hills they hadn't even seen fit to put a line shack up there, which was why it was all the more shocking to find that this man had possibly been up there. They rode for several hours, sometimes taking as much as half an hour to cover one small stretch of terrain. Hoss had led the way with Little Joe riding second, and Adam bringing up the rear in case Joe's little paint were to slip. Hoss had some difficulty remembering where the canyon was, for he had only ever been there once, but they only had to turn back and follow some different route a couple of times, not adding even fifteen minutes to their journey.

Mid-afternoon, with horses and riders worn out, found them close to their destination. Hoss held up slightly, motioning that the canyon they sought was just over the next rise. The three dismounted and ground-staked their horses as they continued on foot. Joe and Hoss drew their guns as Adam rested a hand on the hilt of his, having released the safety catch some time ago. As they approached, the stillness of the cold afternoon was suddenly broken by the distant screeching of birds of prey... many birds of prey. Looking up, they could see countless vultures circling above what seemed to be the very canyon for which they themselves were headed. The sight of so many buzzards and knowing what they represented sent shafts of uneasiness down the men's backs and made all of them want to look over their shoulders with added trepidation. Easing their way forward again, they pushed on through the undergrowth, and with every step they could see the orange dirt that had brought them there become increasingly more abundant on the ground and surrounding rock. They reached the edge of the flora where the brush would no longer shield them from unwelcome eyes, if such eyes there were. Adam motioned for his brothers to cover him as he lay on the ground and crept toward the edge of the canyon, silently drawing his gun. Hoss and Joe held their breaths as they knelt in the foliage and watched their brother crawl closer and closer to the edge. Joe bobbed his leg nervously as he scanned the rock faces for unexpected faces.

Adam reached the edge and stopped, motionless. He didn't utter a sound, only gazed downward. Hoss and Joe began to think something was wrong with him. Why was he just lying there? What was he seeing? Not being able to control his curiosity any longer, Hoss was about to go out in the open when Adam got to his feet and slowly replaced his gun in its holster, no threat or worry evident in his actions. Still skeptical of their surroundings, the two brothers cautiously came up behind him. It was all for naught, however, as they reached the edge and stopped in their tracks by what greeted their eyes... and noses. Hoss couldn't understand what he was seeing, why he was seeing it. Joe felt nauseous as he looked away from the horrible sight in the hopes of saving his meager lunch eaten on the ride up. Down below in the canyon of orange rock were the three hundred head of cattle rustled from them... dead and heaped upon one another at the bottom, the remains of the carcasses mostly ravaged and torn apart by the fowls still circling overhead. The torn and withering hide of one that hadn't fallen completely to the bottom clearly showed the mark of the Ponderosa brand. Had it been only a week ago that these same cattle had been stolen from them? And now they were dead, undoubtedly stampeded over the edge of the steep canyon to fall to their intended deaths.

Surprisingly, the first one to break the silence was Hoss, whose heart had always been tuned to the living creatures on the ranch, many of which he had delivered, branded, raised and now saw lying dead below them. "I don't get it, Adam. Why?" the big man asked softly, not understanding the harsh and total waste of life before him. "Why would anyone do this? What does it mean?"

"It means, Hoss," Adam started, his voice gravelly with the weight of a sickened heart, "whoever is doing this... isn't interested in money."

"But why then?" Joe asked gruffly, coming back around to face his brothers, his voice edged with rage and disgust. "Why go to all the trouble to rustle an entire herd just to slaughter them this way?"

"I don't know," Adam replied quietly, his mind already calculating the pros and cons of such an act and only coming up with the latter.

In the heat of frustration, without warning Joe drew his gun and shot at one of the cawing vultures, sending a bullet right through its body and bringing it tumbling down to earth. The explosion of the gun scattered the others, but it was only a short time before they congregated once again to feast on their abundant bounty. Hoss and Adam could understand why their brother did it. Utter frustration, anger, disappointment and disgust were equally felt by all.

Joe had just holstered his gun when a voice came from the brush. "Why do you come?" The unexpected sound caused them to turn in surprise and reach for their guns again, but the action did little to shock the lone Indian who now stood behind them, his red face as hard as if it were chiseled from rock. He had appeared from nowhere, his moccasined feet hardly made a sound on the hard ground.

Adam recognized him as Wavoka, one of the many tribal leaders of the Paiute nation. Wavoka was a personal friend of the family's and saw many issues the same as the Cartwrights. Unlike many young braves he was never one intent to start wars and altercations, but sought the well-being of all by resorting to peaceful means if at all possible. He was also quite intelligent and had learned to speak English with great ease. They had known him for years.

Recovering from the shock of seeing him there, Adam finally found his tongue and answered, "Greetings, Wavoka. This is our land."

Appearing to not even hear him, the Indian walked to the edge of the canyon. "Cartwrights of this land have always had love for life, much like we Paiute." He then turned to look at Adam, confusion in his eyes, "And yet, you do this," he said, as he waved his hand out toward the canyon.

"Wavoka, we did not do this," Adam started.

"Your ranch mark is on hide."

"They were stolen from us. We do not know who it was or why they would do such a thing. But I promise you, when they are found they will be punished. There is no excuse for this slaughter," he said, nodding toward the carnage on the canyon floor.

Wavoka came closer to Adam, his black eyes intense. "There have been many strange things on your land, Adam Cartwright. Things I do not understand."

Adam thought back and realized the Paiutes weren't even aware that his father had died. It would come as a great shock to them. When the white man had first settled this land, Ben Cartwright was always a man to look out for his red brother. His father had been a close friend to Chief Winnemucca until the great Indian's death two years ago. Wavoka was his nephew and seemed to have many of his uncle's good traits. "Wavoka, there is much you do not know," Adam started, his eyes sad at having to be the one to convey it all to his Indian friend. Making their way from the canyon and back to their horses, Wavoka sat cross-legged and waited for his white friend to speak. Adam sat and began to tell what he knew, which, after all this time, suddenly seemed very little to him. Joe and Hoss made themselves comfortable as they listened to their brother convey the sad turn of events that had filled their last few months with grief and heartache.

Wavoka never moved as he sat and listened to the narrative which took more than an hour. "So there you have it," he finished. "Hoss recognized it, and we came out here hoping to maybe find the man's accomplices, if he had any." He spoke the last sentence through tightly clenched teeth, for as Roy already pointed out, most of their theories were conjecture.

After Adam was done, the Indian seemed deep in concentration. Getting up, he walked a little ways and looked off into the great forest that surrounded them. "Many things you have told me, Adam Cartwright. What you have told, help me to understand what I have seen for many moons."

Adam rose to stand near the Indian, peering at him intently. "What things do you speak of?"

Turning his eyes to Adam, Wavoka continued. "Do you know strange men follow you?"