Chapter 6
May 16
Fort Bidwell, Nevada Territory
To Ben Cartwright
℅ Virginia City
WAGON TRAIN STALLED AT FORT BIDWELL STOP LOST WILSON AND FOVEY TO PAIUTE RAID STOP CARTWRIGHTS ARE WELL STOP LOST ALBERTUS PICKWICK STOP STAYING HERE THREE DAYS FOR REPAIRS STOP ADAM STOP
May 16
Virginia City
To Adam Cartwright
℅ Fort Bidwell, Nevada Territory
….
….
Ben stood for five minutes unable to think. Hardly able to breathe. When he began to feel the eyes of the telegrapher on him, Ben set the pencil down, thanked the man and promised he would be back. The patriarch of the Cartwrights stepped out onto the boardwalk and sank down on the nearest bench, reading the few lines his son had sent, over and over. Every bone in his body screamed that he needed to mount up and ride. Miles, mountains, Paiute's alike be damned, he needed to be there for his boys.
Yet...he couldn't be. The time he'd spared to come into town to check for messages had been precious time lost on other projects. Much as he wanted to put those things to the side to ride to the rescue, he knew that with his boys in the care of the cavalry there was nothing he could add with his presence.
His boys would need more men to help with the wagons, and Ben knew that Fort Bidwell would be big enough, Adam could probably persuade the colonel to lend him a few soldiers. Ben knew the damage that an indian attack could do to the mule teams, the wagons, the supplies. He was so deeply engaged in planning the next move for his boys that he completely missed Roy Coffey sitting down beside him. It was Roy's arthritic fingers pulling the telegram out of Ben's hands that snapped the eldest Cartwright back to the present.
"My god." Roy said quietly, shaking his head. "I'm sorry I asked you to take this on, Ben. I sure am sorry."
"Yeah." Ben said, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.
"Sounds like they aren't planning on giving up, though." Coffey said.
"No...no they wouldn't."
Roy studied his friend for a moment before he said. "I suppose you're wanting to take out after 'em."
Ben raised his eyebrows and nodded.
"I won't let you."
"What?"
"I know you, and I know those boys well enough. I won't let you leave, Ben."
Ben stared down the old goat beside him, shaking his head at the old man's gall until Roy popped a thin lipped smile on his face, pleased as punch with himself.
Ben sighed and looked back at the telegram.
"What am I going to tell them, Roy. What can I even do from here?"
"Ben.." Roy said, getting to his feet. "Suppose you rode into that fort today. What is the first thing you would do?"
"I'd...I'd go find my sons."
"And when you found them…?"
"I would hold them.." He said, his voice breaking. "Tell them I loved them."
"You think you can fit that into a telegram?"
May 16
Virginia City
To Adam Cartwright
℅ Fort Bidwell, Nevada
LOVE YOU BOYS VERY MUCH STOP GLAD YOU ARE SAFE STOP ANYTHING YOU NEED ASK STOP PA STOP
Even though Joe was asleep, Adam read the telegram to him. He and Hoss sat together on the porch of the infirmary after they had both read the telegram a few dozen times, talking about their plans, the telegram tucked neatly into Adam's pocket. When they had purchased new mules from the fort, resupplied, repaired the wagons and four days later were ready to head out, Adam still had the paper pressed over his heart. He sent a final telegram to Virginia City stating that they were pulling out, and once they were on the trail Adam tucked the telegram into the pages of the journal for safe keeping.
May 20th - Enroute to New Pine Creek
"Hey Adam..what's Jane and Henrietta up to?" Hoss asked, watching the sisters standing over the cooking pot, well after the evening meal had been cleaned up.
"Back at the fort they asked if we could buy some ink for them. I think they're trying to dye their dresses black."
Corporal Thomas Cannes squinted from the two eldest Cartwrights to the girls standing over the low fire. "Like for mourning clothes?"
Adam nodded. "They lost their brother in the indian raids."
"Yeah but...out here in the middle of nowhere? Who's gonna know?" Cannes asked.
"They will." Adam and Hoss said at the same time.
They watched quietly as Martha joined the girls, dumping another bottle of dark black ink into the pot, and eventually taking over the stirring process. A few minutes later Harry came to the fire to stir for a bit and the girls put together a pot of tea, setting it by the cooking pot. When Jane wanted to take over again she tapped Harry gently on the shoulder, then took the stick from his hands, giving him a soft smile.
Sewell and Maudie went to the fire and talked to the girls for a minute before they tasked themselves with putting up a drying line between wagons.
"All that gonna be done by morning?" Corporal Cannes asked.
"Should be." Adam said. "If it's not?"
The corporal gave Adam a hesitant glance and the eldest Cartwright finally cut him some slack. "You'll get used to them, Corporal. They don't do things with military efficiency but you'll never find a more loyal group."
"Good kids." Hoss added, nodding.
Adam looked back to the page he'd been scrawling on and re-read the last sentence before putting his pencil to paper again.
"-could barely keep up with him. We covered maybe three miles before I told him to run ahead, and that I would cover our back trail. Miles is born to run. When I found his tracks ahead of me in the dirt I tried to match his stride and nearly broke an ankle.
At first, I figured Miles would have trouble once he got to the fort. There's no way of knowing how folks will act, even those trained by the military. But Miles must have talked fast and smart. I had the fort in sight, and was on my last leg, when the cavalry unit came charging out of the gate. They gave me a horse and we raced back over those same 15 miles. To hear Hoss and Joe tell it, any later and we would have found nothing but charred wagons.
I talked to the fort commander about whether or not a civilian could be awarded a medal for bravery. Without Miles, there is no question that the train would have been devastated. The commander supported my application for a commendation for a civilian and I sent it by wire to Washington before we left, asking that any response be sent to Virginia City, care of Pa.
As it was, the train was infested with flies, three of the mules were down, there were bodies surrounding the wagon train. They had at least one of the Paiute tied up but he died before we got to the fort. Hoss had been hit twice, once in the shoulder and once in the bicep, the same arm he broke before we went on this train. He's convinced that arm will never heal and will be sawed off before we get to Portland. Joe had taken a stone blade to the back, and while the wound was deep, it had missed the important bits. The doctor at the fort was worried about the damage to some of the muscles and instructed Joe to start special exercises after a week. Wilson lay where he died. He's buried now at the fort, and I have his things sealed up in the new strong box.
The worst sight of all was the small grave in the middle. There was no time to ask who had been buried there. The cavalry had the dead and wounded animals replaced, and the wagons moving in minutes and anything that wasn't secured inside them got left behind. Jane asked only once if they would be allowed to go back for Albertus' body, and when she was told it would be too dangerous she simply walked away.
Catherine is still fragile. She stays with her siblings most of the time, still pulls her weight with the train, but the flirtations with Joe have stopped. And, even though we have ample water, now, she's not interested in the washing and cooking lessons. Hoss and I have both tried talking to her, but she just smiles and makes an excuse. Together in their grief, Jane and Catherine have been inseparable.
They are working now at dying some dresses black so that they can mourn properly.
Our two newest members are Corporals Thomas Cannes, and Daniel Good. The colonel was honest enough to admit that he was sending them with us because they were green and needed the experience. He made it clear to the corporals that they were to take orders from my brothers and Bucky, and follow them to the letter while using good sense. They are to stay with us until we have no more need for them. The corporals come with excellent mounts and sparkling equipment. Joe is eager to dirty them up a bit."
May 22 - Enroute to Summer Lake
"Ha, you mules! Ha!" Hoss screamed, almost directly into the ear of the mule he was standing beside. On one side of the muddy crossing the boys of the train had long poles cut from trees, and were using them to push the wagon forward.
Adam, Cannes and Good were in the mud itself, turning the wheels forward and Bucky was in the driver's seat. Joe was up ahead, out of the mud with the first three wagons to have made it out, keeping the kids from getting in the way and keeping himself out of trouble.
"Come on you, mules! Pull! That's it...that's it!" With a squelch the wagon finally pulled free of the mud, the mules fighting the reins and the weight of the vehicle the whole way up the hill. They had hoped that getting a running start might make it easier to get through the mortar like muck but the first attempt at going fast had been disastrous.
Slow was better, but slow.
"That's four out of nine." Adam called, panting hard, looking to Hamish where he sat on the driver's seat of the next wagon. "Bring it up, son."
This was Hamish' first time at the reins on his own. He was fifteen, had proven himself to be a sure hand with tending the animals, and hitching them up or setting them free. He'd taken a couple of lessons with each of the men in the train before starting out today on his own.
Adam knew he was nervous, and he gave the boy a toothy smile, nodding encouragement, and waving the mules forward. "Nice and steady, Hamish. Nice and slow and steady."
The blond nodded at him and whipped the mules too softly the first time, then just hard enough the second time. They jumped forward with a jolt, then got up some speed and the wagon rolled into and out of the mud without a problem, splashing great globs on the chests of the men in the midst of it.
Nonetheless, Hoss, Adam, Cannes and Good let out cheers that were picked up by the rest of the children in the train and Hamish turned around to flash a brilliant grin.
"Keep it goin'!" Adam shouted, even while he laughed, then turned to the next one. "Same as your brother, Harley. Steady and slow!" He called. Harley was far more confident. Where his brother tended to build confidence slowly, Harley would pick up any skill as if he had been born to it. The boy slapped the mules and they fought the reins, weaving across the trail until they accepted they didn't have a choice. With the front wheels turned slightly the wagon slid, then got stuck and Adam and the mud men went back to the hands-on method.
The last two wagons got stuck as well, but as each one finally cleared the mud and climbed back up the hill the children never tired of cheering and screaming encouragement. Adam caught Cannes grinning up at the kids at least once and smirked to himself.
That was the difference between a train of adults and a train of children. The children cheered harder than they worked, but the cheers sometimes did more good.
When they stopped that night Adam took the boys for bath time, determined to clean every ounce of mud out of the crevices into which it had found itself. Joe sat on the banks with the young ones, accepting bare child after bare child into a towel and drying skin and hair thoroughly before ordering the children to dress. Adam stayed in the water with Hoss, inspecting ears, necks, heads and arm pits for unwanted guests before declaring the boys clean and sending them on their way. The older boys in the train were on their own and swam out into deeper water to avoid being called on for babysitting duties, and to rough house a little without drawing attention.
The Cartwrights kept a wary eye on the boys, counting heads frequently, just in case. When one head, a big one, disappeared for a little too long, Joe called from the bank, "Hey, where's Hoss?"
Adam turned in a circle, in water up to his waist, swiping droplets from his face, coming up blank. Seconds later he was thrust into the air and went flying, hitting the water upside down and sideways with barely enough time to draw in a good breath. When he came up sputtering, Hoss and Joe were having a grand ol' time laughing at his expense. Adam mimicked their laughter, softly, checking on the boys before he waded toward the shore. Hoss started toward the bank behind him and Adam waited for just the right moment before he ducked under the water, dove toward Hoss' feet and yanked both of them out from under him.
This time Hoss went down and Adam and Joe enjoyed a good laugh, especially when Hoss came up with water vegetation plastered to his head. Behind them they could hear and see the boys doing much the same to one another, although some had tired of the games and were heading in to shore. Adam stayed in the water a little longer, floating on his back and closing his eyes. Summer Lake was one of those bodies of water that appeared in the spring and was dry by fall. Fed entirely by run off from the mountains it was remarkably clear with little silt on the bottom, and free of fish.
Adam waited until the last of the boys had had enough before he went to the shore and wrapped himself in the blanket set aside for him. He looked for his shirt and pants on the bank, and when he couldn't find them he shook out the blanket to be sure, then hunted around for his boots. His boots were gone, along with his socks and every other stitch of clothing. The only thing he had was the blanket.
"Joseph!" He growled, turning and shouting up the incline to the not too distant wagon train. "Joseph Cartwright, bring me back my clothes!"
May 23 - Enroute to Silver Lake
"Adam...Adam! Remember I'm wounded."
Hoss glanced up from the rope he was splicing, searching the open ground between the rise and the semi-circle of wagons. A minute later he was rewarded with the sight of Little Joseph tearing across the clearing as fast as his feet could fly. On his tail was Adam with a lariat swinging beautifully over his head. With an easy flick of the wrist Adam had Joe roped round the middle. With one tug Joe hit the ground, and while he was recovering his breath and moaning and groaning, Adam tied his legs together, threw the loose end of the rope over the limb of a tree and with one great heave, hoisted their brother up into the air.
"You left me hanging high dry last night, Joe. Now it's your turn." Adam said. He secured the rope and walked away, leaving Joe swinging a few inches off the ground.
"Oh...cut me down. Please, will somebody cut me down. I feel like a side of beef up here."
Adam sat down by the fire to finish his meal, less than ten feet away from his brother, and watched him, looking pleased as punch. With Adam so close, none of the younger kids would get near Joe or his punishment. The older boys got a kick out of it, but Maudie and Catherine finally took pity. They tried untying the rope where it was secured to a tent peg, then tried untying the loop around his feet.
When Joe crooked his finger and started whispering that the girls should get a knife, Adam spoke up.
"Don't you dare cut that rope, ladies. You see, that rope is Joe's rope. Joe may need that rope someday. If you care for Joe...you won't cut that rope."
Maudie looked like she'd fallen for it, crossing her arms around herself, looking depressed. Catherine put her hands on her hips and glared at Adam. Without much warning Martha came up behind them all with an axe, stomped over to where the rope was tied to the ground and cut clean through it with one swing. She set the head of the axe down on the ground, let the handle fall and stomped back to her wagon to finish the laundry she'd been doing, mumbling about brothers and just how useless they were.
Hoss and Adam shared a look, their eyebrows disappearing into their hairlines, both barely restraining themselves from applauding Martha. From where he was untangling himself on the ground, Joe called out, "Thank you, Martha."
Adam and Hoss burst into laughter that knocked Adam to the ground and had Hoss in tears, as Joe picked himself up and limped gingerly away.
May 24 - Enroute to Lapine
Adam, Hoss, Joe and Cannes walked several circles around the stalled wagon shaking their heads. Edith James stood with her sister and brother to the side of the wagon, with a red face. She'd practically worn the strings of her bonnet to shreds with her fingers since the wagon had become stuck. Flora knew she was going to start in on her fingernails next.
"I don't understand how she-" Joe began, one arm crossed under the elbow of the other, pointing vaguely at the split-trunk pine.
Adam looked to Edith and gently asked, "Did you know the tree was there?"
Edith only glanced up for a second before she nodded her head and looked back to the ground.
"And the mules...they just...walked right through the trunks?" Cannes asked.
The girl nodded again but didn't bother looking up this time.
"We either gotta...move the tree...the wagon or the mountain…" Hoss said quietly.
Adam circled to the back of the wagon, getting in close and checking the clearance between the bed walls and the point where the two trunks met.
"If we can lift the tail end of the wagon up high enough, we could roll it over the narrow part, ease it back down the other side." Adam said, standing and squinting up into the trees.
"That's gonna be awful hard without pulleys. We'll need to unhook several of the teams to do the pulling and who knows what that'll do to the hardware." Hoss said.
"The other option is to take the wheels off, Hoss." Joe said.
"Or...cut down the tree." Hoss said.
"No…" Adam disagreed, distracted. "We wouldn't be able to control the fall. The bottom of the trunk would come up, punch a whole in the bottom of the wagon and we'd be down a vehicle."
"How did you ever get the front end through?" Hoss asked Edith. It was the fifth or sixth time one of them had said it.
She had been driving on her own for the first time. The narrow nature of the road they were following had forced the wagons to spread out a little more than usual. Edith had been on her own and out of sight when she managed to wedge the wagon in the V of a split trunk tree.
But for a few scratches on the wood there was little damage to the front wheels and none of the mules were injured. Adam's only explanation was that she must have been going at great speed, and the slightly more narrow nature of the front end of the box helped a little.
"Well...what do we vote? Lift the wagon or take off the wheels?" Joe asked.
Hoss looked up to the swaying pines towering above them. "Lift."
"Lift." Adam said.
"I'll get the other teams." Cannes said.
"I'll get the ropes." Hoss said.
"Joe, have Dan and Bucky take the rest of the wagons up ahead to that clearing you spotted. They might as well get started on lunch."
"Will do, Adam. Don't start anything on your own." Joe warned.
Adam nodded. "Edith, Flora...come get what you need out of the wagon for lunch, then get on ahead."
"I'm really sorry, Adam. I guess I wasn't paying attention-"
"It's fine, Edith. Look...nobody's hurt, the wagon is fine, the team is fine. We've just got another interesting story to tell when we get to Portland. Get your things and get going."
Looking a little less pale, Edith offered Adam a brief smile before she and Flora dug into the wagon. They collected their things in a wicker basket and tramped after the rest of the wagons.
By the time the others returned, Adam had unhooked the mules and pulled them around behind the wagon. He'd begun chopping at one of three trees that he planned to use to build a tri-pod hoist.
"I thought we weren't gonna cut down no trees." Hoss said, riding up on a mule with half-a-dozen of them trailing behind, and Cannes in the rear.
"Well.." Adam began. "Much as I would have liked using the standing timber, none of them are going to give us the stability we need. If we cut down three of these twenty footers, lash them together over that tree, we've got a better fulcrum, and we won't have the wagon swaying back and forth anytime the wind blows."
"This is startin' to feel like an all day job." Hoss said.
"It doesn't have to be pretty, but we do need the wagon to be whole once it's free."
Adam went back to chopping and Hoss and Cannes started hooking the mules together into one team.
"Hey, Adam! Hey...hey brother!"
Adam stopped mid swing, chest heaving, already covered in sweat. "What?"
"Can't we just try fulcruming that wagon from the ground first?"
Adam leaned an elbow against the tree and asked, "What would you have us use as lever? And there is no fulcrum under that wagon, unless you plan on getting on hands and knees and providing your back for the task."
Hoss gave Adam a hurt look and walked away and Adam sighed. "Hoss." He called. "If you can find a rock big enough, and get it under the tail end of that wagon, we can try a fulcrum and lever. But I still gotta get this tree down."
His brother gave him the start of a smile then grabbed Cannes and started looking for a rock. Adam hefted the axe and went back to felling the tree. He had the thing down, free of limbs and chopped into a length of about twenty feet by the time Hoss had his pyramid of three boulders stacked under the tail end of the wagon.
It took the three of them to heft the log and carry it to the pyramid of stone. Wedging it under the wagon but over the pyramid, fighting with the solid weight of the thing, wiped them all out for a good ten minutes.
"I thought you boys were supposed to be timber barons." Cannes said, panting into the mouth of his canteen before taking a swallow.
"We have percherons to haul the logs, Tom." Adam said, irritated. "And we don't normally drive our wagons through the trees, we usually drive them around the trees."
"We usually don't use wagons up there on them hills atall." Hoss said. "We have harnesses for the logs and then we drag them to a flume."
"A flume? What's-"
"Little brother Joe would be delighted to have you ask him that question, and will bore you to tears with the harrowing tale of the Cartwright flume." Adam said. "After we get this blasted wagon out of this tree."
"Where do you want the teams, Adam?" Hoss asked.
"I'll take care of the teams. You and Cannes here are the muscle."
It was well in the afternoon by the time the three men dragged back into camp. When the kids saw the team of eight mules drawing the James wagon they cheered together, making Adam and Hoss and Cannes feel like returning war heroes.
Adam and Hoss, both with re-awakened and throbbing injuries to their arms, collapsed under the canvas by their wagon and promptly fell asleep. Joe, Bucky, Dan Good and Tom Cannes saw to the making of night camp, guard, caring for the teams, etc. All while Joe happily relaid the story of one of his greatest mechanical triumphs.