Common Ground

By

The Tahoe Ladies

He leaned back in the saddle and stretched his legs. The ride that day had been long and tiring, up and over hills and down tracks barely wider than deer traces. He looked back over his shoulder at his brother and saw the same tired yet determined look on his face that Adam was sure was on his own.

"Give me one good reason why we're doin' this," Hoss grumbled, yanking on the lead to the packhorse trailing him.

"Because Pa wanted us to. How's that for a good reason?" Adam replied and once again, nudged a reluctant Sport farther up the side of the mountain. The muttering behind him told him that Hoss followed.

The Ponderosa had expanded. Not by much, and in a direction further from civilization, its boundaries had stretched. The small parcel, barely two hundred acres, give or take some, lay about as far from the main ranch house as it could get and still be attached to the ranch proper. The land, three steep sided valleys actually, was a combination of heavy timber and pleasant grazing ground. Adam and his father had ridden over and inspected it thoroughly before finally purchasing it from an old timer who wanted to return to his wife and family in Ohio. The price had been settled upon and paid last week and then two days ago, Ben Cartwright had asked his sons to ride over and repair the cabin on the new ground. It would serve as a line shack for the coming summer when those three valleys would hold Ponderosa cattle. When they had seen it last, Adam knew it would take more than just some repair work. So now, nearly a full day's hard riding, and the two brothers were about to their destination, packhorse trailing them, loaded with building and camping supplies.

Through the last final ring of trees, Adam saw the cabin again. He had secretly wished that it had fallen in the rest of the way so that they could simply build a new one rather than repair the old. But of course, there were some things that you could just count on. And the vagary of rotten timbers was one of them. It still stood but Adam thought that one good hard breeze and it would come tumbling down. He swung down off his horse in the clearing before the cabin and glanced around. There was no barn or lean-to for the horses; not even a corral. Scratching his head up under his hat, he took stock quickly and sorted through the chores they would have to do before nightfall caught them.

"Hoss, how about you see to the horses? I'll take an axe and cut us some wood for a fire." Adam offered.

"Fine by me," Hoss allowed and turned to his task. The packhorse would be the first animal tended to, its heavy load coming off the light wooden frame quickly and easily. Once unloaded, Hoss expertly hobbled the animal and removed the lead. The brown gelding at once dropped to the ground and rolled, nearly knocking Hoss from his feet.

Next Hoss tended to his horse and his brother's. Their saddles and gear stripped and piled next to the packs, Hoss also hobbled them so that they could graze. He would later use their ropes and make an enclosure but for right now, the hobbles would do.

Hoss hoisted up his saddle and headed for the cabin. It was just like Adam had described it: about to fall down, with the door hanging by one hinge and the window's greased-paper "glass" in tatters. The floor of the small porch with its shaky uprights groaned when Hoss stepped on it. He glanced into the cabin's one room. By the dim light of a fading afternoon sun, he could see that there was little inside: a wobbly table before a stone fireplace whose iron grate sat at an odd angle. Off to one side was what remained of a bed frame. It had been built into the cabin wall. The slats were mostly missing that would have held up the mattress but, as Hoss drolly noted to himself, they had no mattress anyway! What caught and held his attention more than anything else was the strange odor in the cabin. It was a dank and musty scent that seemed to be a cross between a skunk and a cow, sharp yet not sharp.

"Some kind of critter livin' in here," Hoss concluded to no one in particular. As if to confirm his words, he kicked at the pile of leaves that had accumulated in one corner of the cabin. The smell rose up and Hoss twitched his nose in disgust. "Gonna get rid of that right off!" he complained. Using his large booted feet, he kicked most of the leaves and twigs out the door. An errant breeze swirled the dead leaves for a moment but otherwise, it spread out as Hoss kicked his way over to pick up Adam's saddle and the gear from the packhorse.

By true dark, they had a cheery fire going in the fireplace and having cooked themselves some bacon and eggs for their supper, both settled back to enjoy a cup of coffee before heading off to bed. Adam, his long legs stretched out across the uneven dirt floor, balanced his cup in one hand as he ran a hand over his chin, feeling the day's beard stubble there. Hoss, again tugging on his coat to ward off the night chill, took another swallow. Uncharacteristically, he grumbled under his breath.

"Will you stop complaining? If I had wanted to listen to moaning and groaning about every little thing, I would have brought Joe with me!" Adam warned but Hoss merely glared at him.

"I wish you would have brought him instead o' me! What was Pa thinkin' when he said we was to fix this place up? I'd say it needs a match more'n anythin' else!"

Adam's brows danced under his hat brim. "I couldn't agree with you more but Pa seemed to think that all this place needed was -"

"A match!" Hoss interjected.

"- a couple of minor repairs," Adam continued. "But I have to agree with you. It needs a lot of work on it. I can see stars through the roof. The walls need re-chinking. The door needs a new hinge and hasp. Forget the window. We'll just board that over. Only good thing this place seems to have is a working fireplace!"

Hoss shrugged his brawny shoulders and set his cup down on the stone lip of the fireplace. "First thing I'm gonna do is fix that bedstead. I ain't like whatever it is that's been sleepin' in here! I want somethin' under me other than dirt!" and with an all-encompassing huff, he rolled into his blanket and with his back towards Adam, said good night.

Adam tucked his hands behind his head and gazing up into the holey roof, drifted off to sleep.

Late in the night, the horses, tethered on long ropes, began acting up. A sharp whinny from Sport awoke Adam and as he slipped into the moonlit yard with his gun drawn, all he could see were the three horses, ears pointed and heads erect. Whatever it was, it was in the edge of the woods, deep in the shadows, but the horses didn't seemed panicked by what ever it was, just a little spooked.

"What do you suppose it was?" Adam asked as Hoss finally eased up beside him, his gun drawn as well.

Hoss sniffed the air, searching for a clue. There again was the musty musk smell that he had first whiffed in the cabin. Straining to hear any noise coming from the wooded shadows, Hoss ran through the possibilities. Nothing matched.

"Ugh!" Adam grunted. "What is that stench? Do you smell it?"

"Yep. Smelled it in the cabin first thing this afternoon. Figure it's some critter that has been nestin' in there and he ain't too happy about us sleepin' in his house," Hoss explained and again sniffed at the air but the odor was quickly dissipating.

"Well, I am glad he's not in there tonight! My God, what a stink! Worse than a skunk almost," again Adam complained.

"Not like a skunk. More like a bear or maybe a raccoon," Hoss suggested and again breathed deeply of the night air, trying to get another sample but it was gone.

"Maybe like all three rolled into one?" suggested Adam and turning back to the cabin, followed Hoss. "What ever it is, the horses didn't seem really upset by it. So it couldn't have been a bear. Come first light, we'll check for prints. Then we built a proper corral."

"Agreed. I ain't got a hankerin' to walk back home if our horses decide to take off," Hoss mumbled around a yawn.

Out in the darkness, at the edge of the woods, Sport and Chubb both watched the shadows in fascination.

*

With the coming of first light, the brothers began their day. A quick breakfast and several steaming cups of hot coffee and Hoss' attitude began to lighten. Adam considered it to be the best thing that could happen that day since another day of Hoss' complaining and Adam would have been tempted to send him off somewhere while he did all the repair work! But with the meal over with, Adam went directly to the packed tools and began sorting them. Hoss used the last of the water from the canteens to rinse their dishes and told Adam that he was going to the near by creek for water so they could shave.

"Don't go on my account," Adam spoke without looking at his brother. "I decided that since Pa sent us up here to rough it, that is exactly what I am gonna do! And that means that I am not shaving as long as we have to be here." He tossed a small hand axe to one side.

Hoss puckered his face in thought. That did sound like a mighty good idea at that. He scratched his chin, feeling the stubble there. He wondered aloud how long he could go without shaving before the itching drove him to the blade.

Adam grinned lopsidedly at him. "Make you a bet. First guy who shaves has to do the other's chores for a week when we get home. Deal?"

"Deal." Hoss agreed then had a different thought. "What if neither one of us has shaved by the time we get home? Pa'll have a fit. You know how he is about lookin' neat and all."

"Deal's a deal, Hoss. First one who shaves, Pa or no Pa." Adam chuckled then continued. "Could never make that deal with Joe. I think he goes a week at a time without shaving!"

"Aw he ain't that bad, Adam! But the two of you sure do enough arguin'-"

"All right! I get the picture! What do you want to do today after we finish the corral?"

Hoss thought a moment then, picking up one of their two axes, ran his thumb over the sharpened edge. He smiled. "Well, I do believe that creek has some fish in it that would just love to become our supper. What d'ya think?"

Adam smiled broadly. Yes, a little fishing that afternoon might just be what they both needed. "But first we take care of the corral," Adam warned. He'd had too little sleep the night before to not take care of the important things first.

With trimmed limbs firmly lashed to the uprights Hoss had planted, the corral didn't look like it would hold a horse determined to head for home but Adam figured that they didn't need it that stout. As he pointed out, the horses the night before had merely been aroused, not truly frightened.

"Well, if you think so, big brother, that's fine with me. But if somethin' does happen and them horses high-tail it through your fence, you're gonna be the one to go catch 'em. And I ain't walkin' home." Hoss thumped Adam's chest once just to make sure his point was taken in the seriousness he had said it. Adam gave him his best hurt look and for a moment, Hoss knew just exactly where their littlest brother had gotten the same expression.

But the remainder of the afternoon was spent in nothing more serious than pulling fat trout from the deep stream that ran a hundred yards from the cabin. Stretched out flat on his back, his hat tipped over his eyes, Adam Cartwright was a contented man. Without disturbing Hoss, he made a mental list of just what they needed to do to the shack and the order it needed to be done in: roof first, then walls, then the interior. The cedar tree they had seen downed earlier would make the shakes needed for the roof. Then mud to chink the spaces between the logs. Maybe mix it with a little of the native wiregrass to give it real hold. The interior? All it needed as far as Adam was concerned was the bed repaired but he was sure that his father would want a decent table and chair, shelves and, most of all, a floor. Inwardly, Adam groaned. All that work would take the better part of two weeks, longer if the fishing kept getting in the way.

He was about to wake Hoss when he caught a whiff of something on the breeze. There it was again, that foul rank odor that he had smelled the night before. Cautiously, Adam thumbed his hat back and skimmed the tree line with his eyes. There was nothing there in the shadows. Acting as though he was completely at ease, he rolled over and scanned the slope up towards the shack from under the tipped brim of his hat.

"Hoss," he said lowly, nudging him sharply with his elbow. "Don't make any quick moves, okay? I think whatever it was at the horses last night is back. And it's watching us. Roll to your right and check out the trees from your side." His biggest brother did what he asked then grunted that he didn't see anything. Cautiously, Adam again sniffed the air around them. The smell wasn't there.

"I think you got yourself spooked, Adam. We checked for prints and there weren't none. Now you think someone's watching us? You feelin' all right? Little lightheaded maybe from all that hard work you did this morning?" Hoss teased back, sitting up and fetching his fishing line and the stringer of fish from the stream. Adam did the same, feeling indeed a little something but it wasn't lightheaded. It was foolish.

As their second night fell, the two brothers enjoyed their fresh caught fish dinner, panfried. They sat on the rickety porch and sipping their coffee, enjoyed the coming of night to the mountain peaks. Theirs was an easy camaraderie, full of respect for each other's abilities. And as they took their pleasures simple that evening there on that mountaintop, it was evident. The occasional outburst of laughter from one or the other echoed across the clearing. But then the silence of the night caught and held them as they watched the moon rise, pure and silvery white. Once it had risen, full-orbed over the shoulder of the closest mount, they stirred again. Hoss went to check on the horses while Adam took care of the remains of their meal.

For a while, Hoss stood beside their corral and looked into the trees. There was nothing there, he kept telling himself. Nothing but a couple of rabbits, maybe a squirrel or two. Maybe a few deer but nothing else. No, Adam's caution wasn't warranted since Hoss could feel no malevolence in the air. He returned to the shack and again bedded down for the night.

"Well, where did you leave it?" Adam's temper flared the next morning rather early. As they had prepared to begin the serious restoration of the shack, one of the small axes had come up missing.

"You were the one who had it last! You was trimming the leaves and twigs off'n the branches for the corral. Where did you leave it?" Hoss scratched his chin and glared at Adam fiercely. As the two of them stood in the early morning light, each viewed the other as the culprit.

"No!" Adam countered. "You had it chopping firewood! I saw you with it."

"I was using the big two-biter. And now I remember why! I couldn't find the small one. Adam, Pa ain't here to lay into us about leavin' the tools laying around so you just tone it back a notch. One night in the dew ain't gonna hurt the axe but iffen you keep fussin' and blamin' me, I just might!"

With both hands raise in submission, Adam did as Hoss asked and pulled in his temper. Granted, he did remember using the small axe the day before but he also remembered putting it back by the front door of the shack when they had gone fishing. And now it was gone. In retracing his steps, he made the motion he had made the day before as he had leaned the tool against the side of the shack. It would have been the only item there. Adam scratched his two-day old black stubble and wondered what had happened in the night. They could get along without the axe but something about it disappearing galled Adam. He wasn't accustomed to losing things like that.

That was when Hoss saw them. On the splintered boards and next to the peeling bark of the wall, they were hard to spot. He squatted down and picked them up. Two small blue stones, each one no bigger than the end of his little finger. "Adam, lookee here. What are these?"

Adam, trying to figure out where the axe could be, only glanced into Hoss' hand. "Looks to me like little pieces of turquoise. Indians call them pieces of the sky."

"They valuable?" Hoss rolled the stones in his palm, letting the light shine on their dull blue surfaces.

Adam shook his head. "Not really. Some southern Indian tribes think they are holy stones and won't trade them; won't allow anyone else to even hold them. Superstitious lot. But up this far north?" His mouth turned down, dismissing the stones. "Probably some old miner had them and thought they were pretty. Lost them up here or something."

Nodding his head in agreement, Hoss nevertheless pocketed the stones.

**

The two brothers returned down the trail a short ways and using the crosscut saw, cut the fallen cedar tree into manageable chunks then using the packhorse, hauled them up to the yard. With the wood already dead and dry, it didn't take much to begin splitting the chunks into slabs for the roof. Throughout the morning and into the early afternoon, the two brothers worked side-by-side. By mid-afternoon, they had enough cut that Adam was sure they could have re-roofed the Ponderosa's main house twice over. "That's enough, Hoss!" he called and sat down on the porch, gesturing with his canteen for Hoss to join him in a cool drink.

The big man wiped the sweat off his brow with a big red handkerchief and took the proffered canteen, tilting it back to let the water wash over his face. Then he took several swigs and handed it back. "Your canteen's got a hole in it," he teased.

Looking into the now empty tin, Adam smirked. "It surely does! And since you emptied it, you go fill it back up."

Surprisingly, Hoss took the canteen back and smiled. He lightly stepped around Adam and fetched his fishing pole from its resting-place just inside the doorway. "Now you holler iffen you need any help getting them shingles nailed on up there!" Hoss chortled. "But you better holler real loud cause when I'm fishin', I can't hear too well."

Open mouthed, Adam watched Hoss head down the slight slope to the stream, his canteen swinging in one massive hand and the fishing pole in the other. "You're getting just like another brother I know!" Adam shouted but Hoss paid no attention to him.

Adam stretched. Expanding his chest as far as it would go, straining the buttons on his shirt with the motion, he swung his arms back and forth a few times then headed out to tend to the horses the next morning. His tracks made a dark swath through the silvery dew on the grass but he didn't care. It just felt good that morning to be alive, he thought. He fed the horses and talked a little to Sport before he headed back to the shack. He had actually waited to see the smoke rising from the chimney. It was Hoss' turn to make breakfast and Adam didn't want to interfere - or get stuck cooking.

He was most of the way back to the shack when he spotted it. There it leaned up against the wall, close to the door. Adam ran his hand over his bristly chin and smiled to himself. So, you remembered that you had been the last one to use it! Didn't want to admit it. Went out and found it and brought it back.

"You know, I told you," Adam started when he stepped back into the shack. "I wasn't gonna tell Pa you lost an axe, for God's sake. It was just an axe, Hoss."

Hoss turned from his cooking chores and glared at Adam like his brother had lost his mind. "You done gone around the bend on me?" Hoss queried and Adam drew his head back, affronted by the accusation.

"The little axe is back. Right where it was left the other day. But then you know that since you were the one who put it there."

"Adam Cartwright, all that learnin' has gotten in the way of your thinkin' again! I did no such thing! You can own up to remembering where you left it to me, iffen it'll clear your conscience over such a little thing."

Both men stood looking at each other, sure that the other was at fault for misplacing the tool but knowing it was too small a matter to let it become a festered point between them. But something in Adam just wouldn't turn loose and, stepping back outside, he picked up the axe and brought it back with him into the shack.

"Maybe we need to keep the tools inside," he said laughingly but the smile fell from his face when he saw the condition of the blade. It was blunted and badly chipped in several places. It was as though it had been used to try and cut stone, it was so badly distorted. Seeing that, Adam dropped all pretense of conciliation with Hoss. One thing that their father had instilled in them early was the care of their tools, no matter how minor or insignificant the tool was. You never knew when that tool just might save your life.

"Is this why you tried to hide it? Look at the blade! How are we gonna get those nicks out of it with just a whetstone?"

His nostrils flaring, Hoss snatched the axe out of Adam's hand as his brother shook it under his nose. He knew he had not damaged the axe and didn't like the tone Adam was using. "You listen here, brother. I ain't never and I will never -"

"Well, what do you call this?" Adam shot back, his hands resting on his hips as he leaned forward.

"You used it last. You fix it!" and to further emphasize his point, Hoss shoved the handle back into Adam's chest.

"Fine!" Adam spit the word out, his brows lowering menacingly. With his black beard now three days old and scraggily in appearance, and dark eyes narrowed, no one would have messed with Adam Cartwright. No one except Hoss and understanding this, Adam backed down. "I'll sharpen it this morning. But you," and he pointed a long finger at his brother, "will start notching trees. Get them ready to fell so we can get a floor fixed in here."

Hoss glared back, his eyes also narrowed. "Nope!" came his curt reply. "I'm gonna fix that durn bedstead. I am tired of sleepin' on the floor. Fact is, right now I am tired of just about ever'thin' up here and that includes you, older brother."

"Well, why don't you just get back up on that black nag of yours and go home? Go ahead! Tell Pa that you can't take it up here and that you left me, ME!, to finish fixing the place up. Go on!" Adam challenged, his nostrils flaring in anger.

For several long moments, the two brothers simply glared at one another. Both thought the same thing: this wasn't like them. Why were they so edgy with each other? Was it because they had been together, cheek to jowl, for the better part of a week? Was it the work that neither felt was necessary? What was it?

Hoss finally broke first. The eternal peacemaker looked to the dirt floor of the shack and scowled at his boot toes. "No, I'm gonna stay and finish things. But maybe we do need to work apart today. Give ourselves some privacy for a while," he mumbled and Adam took it for what it was: an apology.

Breakfast was eaten in silence on the porch then Hoss picked up the two headed axe and his canteen, saying he would be home before dark and would have enough trees notched for tomorrow's felling. Adam, sitting on the rickety step, glanced up at him, squinting into the sun and suggested he bring home enough smaller stuff to fix the bed frame. All Hoss did was grunt in reply.

The better part of the morning, Adam spent with the small handheld whetstone, working the nicks and voids from the blade of the small axe. He found himself humming, taking an occasional sip of coffee and just simply enjoying the peace and serenity of the site.  There would be the chirp of a bird then a flash of color in the woods that would hold his attention for a few heartbeats. Watching two squirrels at play over next to the new corral made him smile. When the breeze would change direction for a moment, he would hear the steady thunk thunk sound that he recognized as Hoss chopping into a tree. Hoss had been right; they needed time apart.

With the axe now back sharpened, Adam stepped back into the shack and placed it carefully with their other tools in one corner. He decided a little cleaning was in order so he went about it. Methodically, he removed all of their gear from the inside, placing it in the sun-bright yard. Then he tore into the old bedframe, realizing that most of it would have to be gotten rid of as it just wouldn't be strong enough to support Hoss' bulk. Make good firewood, though, and he chopped the wood into the right lengths and left the pile next to the fireplace.

A rock under one corner of the grate brought it back to even. Adam cleaned all the old ashes out of the fireplace and dropped them into a pile next to the doorway. They would be used when they mixed the mud mortar to chink the gaps between the wall logs. He tore down the remnants of the greased-paper that had been the sole window. They had talked about just closing the window over but one look out the window and Adam changed his mind. The view was worthy of a window. He made a list in his head and on the top of it was the dimensions a piece of glass would have to be cut to fill the hole. He was just cutting a new leg for the table when Hoss appeared, Chubb dragging two logs.

"Got some coffee?" Hoss called as Adam waved him in.

"Cold coffee," Adam replied, chagrinned. He had left the coffeepot on the porch when he had finished his axe repair. Every time he had gone into and out of the shack, he had intended to pick it back up and bring it inside. But each time, he had forgotten.

"Well put it back on the fire and warm it up some. After that puny breakfast, a man's got to have somethin' to prepare him for lunch." Hoss sniffed the air, expectantly. "Dagnabit!" he swore gently and looked off to the west, the direction he had just come from. "There it is again. That smell! Got a whiff of it while I was over there cuttin'. Went lookin' for it but didn't see nuthin' but here it is again."

"I know what you mean. While I was cleaning in here, I smelled it real strong and had the feeling I was being watched."

"Sure that ain't your conscience botherin' ya?" Hoss teased as he untied the rope from the logs he had brought back. "I mean, you ain't been the friendliest cuss lately. I think it's got somethin' to do with them whiskers on yer face."

"Me?" Adam yelped, pretending to be affronted. He moved forward and helped Hoss with the rope and logs, moving Chubb aside. "Here I was thinking the same thing about you!"

"Well, I got this here taken care of. You go heat me up some coffee and while you are at it, what are we havin' for lunch? I'm starved. I swear, the way you got me workin' up here and eatin' so dad-blamed little, I'm gonna just shrivel up into nothin' and blow away."

Adam smiled, hearing the age-old complaint that Hoss had been spouting for years. It was a little comforting to hear; just like when Hop Sing claimed to be heading back to China or Pa fussing at Joe to get a haircut. They were words that he expected would be repeated time and again but never really meant. Shaking his head, he headed back to the shack. He wondered what Hoss would say when he found out that Adam had forgotten to start anything for the noon-day meal and that there wasn't even a fire going in the hearth.

When he got to the porch, he moved aside the parcel next to the door, expecting to pick up the cold coffeepot. It wasn't there. Quickly, Adam shoved aside some other items there on the porch but the missing pot remained just that: missing. Thinking that he may have already taken it into the shack and just not remembered that he had, he said nothing to Hoss but once inside, seeing no pot, all he could do was scratch his head in wonder. How had Hoss managed to get the coffeepot from the porch without him either seeing or hearing him? Rather than fighting with him, Adam decided a little cajoling would be better.

"Okay. I am impressed. How did you do it?" Adam asked, fighting hard to keep the smirk off his face when Hoss stepped into the small shack behind him.

"Just cut them timbers, tied 'em up and hauled 'em in here. Ain't nothin' to it! Want me to start the fire?" and without waiting for Adam's reply, Hoss brushed by him and proceeded to do just that. Once the small stuff had caught well and he was about to lay in the larger fuel, Hoss asked for the pot to hang over the flame.

"I'd give it to you but you know that I can't because you already have it," Adam smoothed his way into the situation, trying to keep his smile in place as well.

"We ain't doin' that business again, Adam. Just get the pot-"

"Where did you leave it?"

Both brothers wound up glaring at one another, scratching their chins and squinting. Hoss finally stood up and towering as best he could over Adam, jabbed a finger into his chest. "I been out cuttin' trees. You been here at the cabin all morning. If the coffeepot has now gone missin', it ain't a' cause of me!" Hoss eased to one side as he stood up. If it had been Joe across from him, he could have lifted the boy with one hand, taken him to the stream, doused him good and the boy would have quit with his messing. But this was Adam. And you couldn't handle Adam the same way you did Joe.

"I think they call this a stand-off. Listen, Hoss, I didn't do anything with the coffeepot other than have it out on the porch while I was sharpening the axe. It isn't where I left it. If you didn't sneak in here and move it, hide it, who did?" Adam reasoned. He backed away a few steps. An angry hungry Hoss was not to be trifled with under any circumstances and he felt he would be safer more than an arm's length away.

Hoss' face pulled to one side as he fell into deep thought. It wasn't like Adam to play games like this, especially when it came to something as important as tools and such. Besides, Adam loved his coffee more than anyone else in the family, so why would he do something with the pot just for a joke?

"Maybe we got ourselves a visitor?" Hoss pondered aloud.

"Like who? We are up here miles away from even the hint of a trail. Much less a road! " Adam's hands jerked into the air as he spoke and moved to the far side of the cabin. He wouldn't admit that he'd had the same thought however ridiculous it sounded spoken aloud.

"I dunno," Hoss admitted then went on. "Maybe an Injun? Or some old trapper? Remember the smell? I'd bet it's comin' from our visitor."

"An Indian? What would an Indian want with a coffee pot?"

Shoulders shrugging, Hoss had to go with Adam. It sounded a little far-fetched, even to him. Then he smiled broadly and guffawed just once. "We been overlookin' the obvious, Adam. Hey, Joe! You can come out now!" Hoss hollered and the rafters shook but no little brother appeared. Adam even smiled and called the same. Same results.

By now, there was something crawling up Adam's neck, making the hairs there stand upright. Again, he had the feeling that he and Hoss were not alone, so he sauntered slowly and carefully to the open doorway and looked out. The horses in the corral stood heads up and ears erect, watching the shadowed tree-line intently. Adam did the same and Hoss, easing up behind him, did also.

"You know, this may sound a little silly but I think we need to stay together for a while," Adam whispered softly, scanning the sunlit yard for anything moving. There was only a bird hopping in the tall grass looking for a meal. Adam nearly jumped out of his skin when Hoss touched his shoulder.

"I'll agree with ya, big brother. It do sound a little silly: two growed men, in broad daylight, scared of their own shadows? Even if it were some Injun or a mountain man out there, you and me could handle 'em. Right?" Hoss also whispered. The words had just the barest trace of insecurity about them.

"Sure we could," Adam responded, glad again for Hoss' bulk at his back. "You and me can handle anything but Pa has always --"

Before Adam could finish his statement, Hoss chimed in. "Said that being prepared was half the battle."

A shiver that came from nowhere raced up Adam's spine. He had looked down at where he knew he had left the coffeepot. There, among the rough-hewn boards of the porch, were two small blue stones. He squatted down, picked them up then handed them to Hoss. Hoss stared at them in his palm then dug into his vest pocket for the ones that had been left earlier, hoping that perhaps he had just dropped them there. No, the others tumbled out into his palm and Hoss now held four blue stones.

***

For the next three days, they didn't get out of earshot from the other. Their gunbelts, usually left hanging in the cabin, were worn constantly. The coffeepot was returned in the night, two days after it had disappeared. The lid was missing and there was a considerable sized dent in its side. Neither man made a comment about it but it heightened their uneasiness. They caught themselves staying up late, talking about everything that was actually nothing but nerves strung taut. Early mornings when the door was first opened, the yard was carefully scanned for signs of the visitor but it was as though whoever it was had moved on. Little by little, as the shack became more inhabitable and therefore defendable, the brothers began to relax. The walls had been chinked closed, the stones in the chimney reset and the bed frame once again resembled a bed. The door hinge had been replaced with a strap of leather so that now the door would close completely. The only chore left was to put down the flooring.

Out in the timber, Hoss paused to wipe his brow again that afternoon. The trees that he and Adam had felled that afternoon were being prepared by him to move up to the cabin. Cut into the right approximate length, Adam had asked Hoss to strip the branches while he got the packhorse situated. The sturdy little brown horse would pull one of the sections while Chubb would pull two others. Adam, up on Sport, would again be the guard even though they felt whatever was the danger was gone. "Caution," they had both thought aloud.

With Hoss walking alongside the pack horse, they made their way slowly into the yard, the trailing logs only getting caught up once in the thick brush there. They quickly stripped the ropes off and Hoss went to the pack on Chubb to get his axe. Even though the wood was green, they would split it and lay it as flooring now. Later on, when the wood had dried and seasoned, other green pieces would be laid into the floor, wedged tight. Again and again the process would happen until the cabin was snug and as near water tight as could be expected.

"Dadburnit! Adam," Hoss hollered over to where Adam was beginning to put up the horses. "I left my axe down there! How about you go back and get it?"

Adam shook his head slowly then swung back up onto Sport and with a finger to the brim of his hat, loped passed Hoss and into the trees. Watching the trail carefully for roots and overhanging branches, he quickly made it back to the clearing they had created. The axe was there, leaning up against a stump and Adam smiled to himself and heaved a sigh of relief. Even though nothing had gone missing for the last few days, he figured this would have been a prime candidate. He fetched up the axe and was about to swing onto Sport when he caught it. That smell, that nearly over-powering stench, was back. And stronger than it had ever been. Hastily he swung onto his horse.

From the vantage point of Sport's tall back, Adam looked around, turning the big chestnut this way and that. There was nothing to be seen except for the erect ears on the horse who seemed intent on something off to their right. Swallowing hard, Adam nudged his heels into Sport's side, aiming him in that direction. The big animal had to be prodded a little harder before he moved, slowly and cautiously into the brush. Every fiber of man and horse was alert and watchful yet it was so quiet, Adam thought that Hoss could have heard him breathing all the way up in the yard.

After they had gone into the thick undergrowth about a hundred yards and still seen nothing, Adam noticed that the odor was gone and Sport seemed more relaxed. "Well, old boy," he softly addressed the horse as he patted the neck before him. "What is it you see out there? Huh? What is it? Who is it?" Adam snorted and chortled just once. "Beginning to sound like Joe, what with wanting my horse to talk to me! Come on, Hoss is waiting for this." He reined his horse abruptly around, thinking he had heard something or someone behind him but there was nothing except the empty swath they had cut through the bushes. Again, Adam swallowed hard but then clenched his jaws tight and put his heels into Sport.

Once out into the clearing again, Adam pulled his horse up then studied the area intently. Next to where he had picked up the axe, he thought he saw something and he dismounted, dropping the reins to the needle-covered earth. He squatted and with one finger traced what he found in the churned-up dirt. It almost looked like the track of a bare human foot but larger and broader.

He had no time to react. A part of him heard Sport's shrill neigh of fear but by then it was too late for Adam. As Adam had knelt in the dirt, the bear, downwind until moments before, had the advantage of surprise and position. Instinct drove Adam and he rolled into a fetal position, his arms crooked beside his head, his knees drawn to his chest. He could do nothing to protect himself other than pray.

The first swipe of the huge paw ripped into Adam's back, shredding his shirt easily and deeply scoring the flesh beneath it. The claws felt like whips of fire lashing him but Adam stayed curled. Again he felt the bear's paw pushing at him, this time lower on his legs and the motion rolled Adam face up. Even though he could feel no malevolence in the bear, Adam hated to call it curiosity for what the animal was doing. He thought about thrusting his legs out to push the bear backwards and maybe try to make an escape. But when the animal struck at him again, it drew blood, this time to one leg and Adam tried to scream. Once again, the bear swiped at him, catching him on the side, bloodying him and breaking ribs.

Just before he lost consciousness, he caught that now familiar odor again. It wasn't the smell of the bear at all but something entirely different. And it was close by.

****

Hoss had just finished stripping the bark off of all three logs they had brought up. Muttering to himself about how long it was taking Adam, he headed for the cabin and the tools kept there. He figured he would give Adam another fifteen minutes then head out looking for him. He had just stepped out of the house with the splitting wedges in hand when he saw Sport limp into the yard, Adam laying over the saddle horn.

Dropping his tools, Hoss ran then slowed when Sport shied. "Easy there boy," Hoss crooned and the chestnut recognized the friendly voice and, dropping his head, stood, shaking and obviously afraid. Still speaking softly, Hoss approached and to his astonishment, found that Adam wasn't conscious. His face, now with its dark beard covering the lower half, was dirty and his hat was no where to be seen. As Hoss eased up beside Adam, he saw the flayed and bleeding back, the scored side. His heart in his throat, Hoss reached up to pull his brother down then saw that somehow, Adam was tied to the saddle with the wild vines that grew heavily in the area.

Hoss pulled out his pocketknife and cut through the vines. A distant part of him wondered how Adam had been able to do this and why hadn't he used the rope right there on the saddle instead of these knotted and twisted vines? But he didn't dwell on those questions as Adam dropped from the saddle as though there wasn't a bone in his body.

He needed no pocket watch to tell him the time. He knew by the slant of the sun that it had been hours since he had managed to get Adam into the shack. Stripped of the bloody remains of his shirt and stretched out on the blanketed floor by the fireplace for warmth, Hoss had tended him as gently and thoroughly as he knew how. The marks Hoss saw, he recognized at once: Adam had been attacked by a bear and a big one at that. Using hot water and a clean cloth, Hoss had cleaned the wounds on his back, side and leg. Then, digging out one of Hop Sing's ointment from his saddlebag, he had gently spread it over the gashes. He had torn his two clean shirts into strips and managed to bandage Adam's leg but he found that he would need more hands to hold Adam up and bandage his chest and back. Right then, Hoss would have given his part of the Ponderosa for that extra pair of hands.

*****

As dusk was settling over the clearing, Hoss left Adam only long enough to tend to the horses. Sport still stood saddled, ground tied by the corral. Hoss chastised himself for ignoring the animal but then considered that with no one else to help him, Adam had been first priority. He spoke softly to the horse as he approached and Sport merely lifted his head and gazed at him. In the dim light, Hoss saw the long gouges, four of them, on the horse's shoulder. He ran his hand over them, expecting to find that they were wet with blood. They weren't and, puzzled, Hoss turned the mount so that the remaining daylight shone on that side. How in the world had Adam, in the shape he was in, do this? Hoss asked himself. The torn flesh had been cleaned and a paste that showed green on Hoss' hand had been rubbed into them. Maybe the horse got clawed first. No, Adam wouldn't have ridden him wounded!

Still uneasy, Hoss stripped the saddle and blanket off the chestnut then led him limping into the corral. He slipped the bridle off and promised the other horses that come daybreak, they would be moved closer to the cabin. Those horses would be their only salvation now, their only way of getting help or getting out of the mountains and Hoss suddenly didn't like the idea of them being any further away from him than his gun was. He watched as Sport moved over close to Chubb as though seeking solace. The black gelding turned his nose and sniffed at his stablemate then went back to grazing.

How am I gonna do this? The big man thought as he watched the horses in the corral for a moment longer. I got to have help. Usually, he would have turned loose one of the saddle horses. Either one would have gone straight to the main barn at the Ponderosa and that mere fact would have set help on the trail to them. But he couldn't trust that Sport would be able to make it in time. Roughly calculating a day and a half for the riderless animal to find his way home and a day for help to come, Hoss wasn't sure how much time he truly had but he would send Chubb come first light.

By the rising of the moon, Hoss knew he had figured wrong. Adam had started in with a fever, probably brought on more by the shock than by anything else. Covering him with all the blankets they had and stoking up the fire, the big man watched as his brother first shivered then moaned. Adam came around a bit and Hoss, mindful of the condition his brother's back was in, rolled him over and forced a little water down his throat. Adam coughed and sputtered, his eyes finally opening. They were glazed, unfocused.

"You just lay back there and rest, brother. Come morning, you'll be right as rain," encouraged Hoss, rubbing Adam's arm as Adam again coughed. "How'd you get away from the bear?"

"Didn't," Adam mumbled as Hoss laid him on his undamaged side and covered him again. "You pulled him off."

Hoss paused in his ministrations. Adam must be out of his mind, he decided. It was the fever making him talk like that, thinking that Hoss had had anything to do with saving him, the big man concluded. He shook the canteen. It was empty. He hated to leave Adam again but they had to have water.

"I'm gonna go get some water, Adam. You stay put, ya hear? I won't be gone but just a minute now," Hoss warned, wishing for the quick come-back answer that Adam would have given him about who gave orders to who. But Hoss snagged up the canteen by its strap and with no more light than the moon, made his way to the stream. He filled the canteen with the cool water, stoppered it and rose to hurry back to the shack. Half way up the slope, he stopped. He had caught the scent again. Whatever it was that had hurt Adam, be it bear or whatever, was back. Pulling his gun, Hoss hurried on.

The door to the shack was open, the thin lamplight streaming out into the yard. He had closed it when he had left, Hoss knew he had. He ran, sure now that he was about to come face to face---with nothing. Except for Adam before the fireplace, the shack was empty. Whirling Hoss looked behind him. All he saw was the horses, their ears showing that they were more interested in the woods once again than the shack.

Slamming his gun back into his holster, Hoss turned on the porch to re-enter the cabin. He nearly tripped over what was there beside the door: a fish, its scales dully reflecting the moonlight; some green plant material and a long slender wand of willow. Not knowing what else to do, Hoss picked up the things and went into the cabin, closing the door tight behind him and dropping the peg lock into place.

Just looking at the fish made his stomach rumble, reminding him that except for breakfast, he hadn't eaten all day. He sniffed at the delicate greenery; it was pungent and sharp. Then he remembered where he had smelled it before: it was the same thing that had been spread into Sport's injury. From somewhere out of a distant memory, he recalled what it was: yarrow, the herb the Indians used on wounds when infection was a danger. And the willow, Hoss recalled Hop Sing once saying that a tea made from the inner bark would cure a headache. Hoss had tried it a time or two and thought that the bitter taste of it was what did the curing.

It all slammed home to Hoss. The vines tying Adam to his horse, the poultice on Sport and now these things left on the porch. Whoever their visitor was, he was also their benefactor. Quickly Hoss went about doing what he had to do. Water went into the coffeepot to warm as he took the yarrow leaves and pummeled them into one of their two bowls. He used the back of a spoon and added a little water to make a thick paste, continually grinding the delicate greenery into oblivion. The fish, he gutted and skewered onto half of the wand of willow then laid it on the coals he'd moved to one side of the fire to cook it quickly. He peeled the tough outer bark from the rest of the willow and slipped the soft white inner bark away. He poured the hot water over this and set the cup aside to steep for a while.

He carefully eased the blankets from Adam's back. It was just as he feared. Although the wounds were no longer bleeding it was because the edges were swollen, closing the gaps yet sealing in the infection. Hoss said a quick prayer that what he was doing was right then, gently and slowly, began spreading the green paste down the claw marks, all the while talking to Adam, telling him what he was doing. Once those on his back were covered, Hoss moved Adam's arm and did the same with those that were on his side.

Once he had the crude poultice on, he laid the strips of torn shirt up, down and across Adam's back, pressing gently and hoping that they would adhere. They did. He rolled Adam to lay on his back and was rewarded by his brother's dark eyes fluttering open.

"Here, you need to drink this," Hoss urged, bringing the cup of willow bark tea to his brother's mouth. Adam made a face but Hoss was insistent. "Yeah, I know it's got to taste awful but we ain't got nothin' to sweeten it with."

"What--" Adam seemed to struggle with just the single word.

Hoss smiled reassuringly. "Well, look at it this way: if it don't kill ya right off, you got a chance to get better. You hungry? Got a fish over here I'll split with ya."

*********

With the coming of the new day over the far horizon, Hoss had come to a conclusion: there wasn't going to be enough time to turn Chubb loose then sit back and wait for help to come. Adam's fever had ebbed and flowed through the night, washing his features pale and white for one moment then flushed and sweat-sheened the next. Because there wasn't the time, he would have to rig a travois for Adam to recline on and somehow, Hoss would have to make it all work. There was only one problem as he saw it: Adam had at least one broken rib. Without stabilizing, Hoss risked his brother's life just by moving him. Again, he pondered how he could hold Adam upright and wrap his chest tight enough to hold that side in place. If Adam had been a little more cognizant of what was going on, Hoss could have simply pulled him forward and told him to stay that way but Adam, slipping into and out of fever-laced consciousness, just couldn't do it.

With his mind made up, Hoss had left Adam and went out to tend to the horses. He watched as Sport moved slowly around the corral, still limping and favoring that one side. No, Hoss thought to himself, he couldn't tie the travois onto the chestnut. Likewise, he couldn't put the rig on his own mount and ride him as well. There was only one thing to do: the packhorse would pull the travois while Hoss rode Chubb and he would turn Sport loose. The big animal would most likely stay close and, Hoss sighed, they would be traveling slow enough that maybe the horse could keep up. At least, he prayed it would.

After feeding and watering the animals, Hoss went back into the cabin and checked on Adam. A gentle touch to his brother's cheek and Hoss felt the presence still of the intermittent fever. He called his name a time or two, hoping against hope that Adam would respond but Adam merely moaned and pulled from the touch. Pulling up the lone chair, Hoss sat and put his head in his hands to think.

Wish I had some of them engineering skills of yours, brother. I don't wanna hurt you but how am I not gonna hurt ya? Wake up and tell me what to do. Please? Tell me what I want to do is the right thing, Hoss silently pleaded.

Finally, with no answers coming from what he was doing, he knew he had to make his own decisions and make them now. Adam wasn't getting any better and Hoss was wasting valuable time. With another quick check that Adam was sleeping still, Hoss headed out the door. He had to build the travois while there was enough light to work by.

Rather than go again into the woods for the materials he needed, Hoss took three poles from the top railing of the corral. Using his own rope, he tied one set of ends together then spread the opposite ends about four foot apart. At these ends, he used part of the third pole and braced them apart, lashing the crosspiece about a foot above the dirt. The rest of the third pole he lashed to the two long pieces, the drags, about the length of Adam's body plus a little further towards the crossed ends. He took Adam's rope and made a broadly woven mesh between the four sides. Lifting it and bracing it easily against the corral, he tested it. It bounced and gave a little but Hoss was sure it would serve his purpose but a concern crept in. The rope mesh was bound to be uncomfortable pressing into Adam's body and the blankets they had would not be cushioning enough. With a deep sigh and a look towards the cabin, Hoss knew he had to return to woods and cut pine boughs to interweave in the ropes to make the travois easy enough on Adam. Gathering his nerve and his axe, Hoss walked into the tree line.

The hair on the back of his neck stood straight up as he worked. It was hard to keep scanning the area and do the work that he needed to do but Hoss tried. He quickly cut the needled boughs and drug them up to the corral. He wiped the nervous sweat from his brow and, scratching at his scraggly chin whiskers, wondered why he was so edgy. That fella ain't done nothing to hurt me or Adam but why am I half scared of him? Hoss pondered as he laced the boughs into the rope webbing. The only answer he could come up with was that whoever it was, chose not to show his face or his presence. And had watched them carefully from the beginning. Mighty un-neighborly, Hoss thought but then sat back and considered the situation again. They had moved into his home. They had started making changes to it, living it, cooking in it and in general, made it their own. How would they feel if someone did the same thing to the Ponderosa? Not very neighborly to be sure!

The sun was arching towards the west when Hoss finally decided he had done all he could to the travois to make Adam's ride comfortable. It would be too late to start out for home that day, and, moreover, Hoss needed the night to contemplate his next problem. Now he just had to get Adam loaded on to it without doing any more physical damage to his brother. He grabbed up his canteen and went down to the stream for water. Dinner that night would be a little on the thin side since he had not taken the time to hunt for fresh game. He would soak some of their jerky in warm water, dice it up fine and make Adam eat and drink it whether he wanted it or not.

As he lumbered up the slope, Hoss caught his first glimpse. It was walking in long strides quickly away from the front of the cabin. Hoss' first instinct was to holler and he did. The other turned towards the sound and Hoss had the fleeting impression of a huge man, covered with long hair but instead of staying, the other turned and disappeared into the undergrowth. Hoss swallowed hard, trying to get his mind to comprehend what his eyes had seen. Whatever it was it was man-like but not a man. The bent-legged stride, the way the long hair-covered arms swung in rhythm, the way the shoulders hunched forward, it all spoke of not being human to Hoss.

Hoss half-ran after it but stopped when he reached the second ring of trees. He stopped and listened, hoping to hear the noise a body crashing through the undergrowth would make but there was no sound except his own labored breathing.

"Stop!" Hoss cried out into the silence, "I need your help! My brother's hurt bad and I'm afraid to move him on my own. Help me! Help me and you can have the shack back! I swear it!"

Only the twitter of birdsong answered Hoss. Dejected now, and not afraid but definitely perplexed, Hoss returned to the cabin. There on the porch, whatever it was had left odd gifts that Hoss puzzled over. The dead rabbit, he figured he could use for dinner. And there was more of the yarrow for the healing poultice and another broadleaf plant that Hoss had no knowledge of whatsoever. But included this time around was the old hide of a deer, nearly all of the hair worn off it.

As he skinned out the rabbit and cut the meat into sizable chunks, Hoss thought about what he had seen. He couldn't decide if he wanted to talk to Adam about it or not. Maybe his father would know what sort of creature it was Hoss had seen leaving the gifts at the cabin. But then again, Hoss wasn't sure he would ever mention it to his father either. And the gifts the creature had left puzzled Hoss as much as the creature himself. It had started with the stones Hoss still had in his pocket. They had no value other than being pretty. Hoss knew packrats and crows often "exchanged" knickknacks with folks but this was a little more substantial than that.

Once he had the meat chunks sizzling in the fry pan, he turned his attention to Adam. Rousing Adam a little, he poured water, a tablespoon at a time into Adam's mouth. Adam swallowed but Hoss felt it was more out of reflex than anything else. Hoss rolled Adam to his front and peeled away the poultice from his brother's back. Gently, Hoss wiped away the dried greens. The yarrow was doing all that it could to hold the infection at bay but the claw marks still wept a little blood and fluid. He would again make the poultice and liberally coat Adam's back with it. The cloth bandages that he had pressed into the mixture he would have to wash out and they would have to dry. That left Hoss with nothing to hold it all in place. Then it occurred to him. The broad green leaves the other had left; Hoss would use them while the cloth dried.

The deer hide, he figured he would use for the padding on the travois. Looking at it in the lamplight, Hoss could see that it had seen better days and had the faint musty smell to it that he had come to associate now with the other. The hair was worn off it in more than few places, leaving the hide stiff. He threw it into one corner of the cabin and went back to the making of dinner.

After moonrise, Hoss finally got Adam awake enough to eat. Painfully reclined on a saddle, Adam allowed Hoss to feed him slivers of the rabbit and help him to swallow some of the broth Hoss had made as well.

"Gotta…. go…. for help," Adam managed to mumble loud enough for Hoss to hear.

"When I go, I gotta take you with me so don't go giving me no trouble, ya hear?" Hoss warned, half in jest.

"Can't… sit…horse," Adam again spoke softly.

"Boy, howdy, don't I know that!" Hoss replied and gave Adam another drink of warm broth. Hoss could tell that every motion, every breath it seemed, gave Adam new pain. Again, he pondered just how he was going to move Adam from there in the shack to the travois. If there was simply a way to immobilize Adam's ribcage, like a cast, he thought he could manage but he had no plaster of paris like the doctors used. He didn't even have enough blankets to tear into binding strips and still keep Adam warm.

He settled Adam again , the warm poultice on his back and side and leg now held in place by the broad leaves. He rinsed out the cloth strips and hung them next to the fire to dry. Hoss polished off the chunks of rabbit meat and chuckled to himself when it dawned on him how much better the rabbit was than the jerky he had envisioned for dinner.

In his cleaning up, he picked up the rabbit hide and prepared to take it out doors and throw it into underbrush with the other debris he had collected. It was stiffening and Hoss' first thought was that it was a shame that the hide wasn't bigger because Adam sure could use a warm furry coat right about then. He stopped dead in his tracks. With the flash of inspiration, Hoss called into the woods. "Thank you!"

He retrieved the deer hide from inside the shack and took it to the stream and soaked it in the cold water. He wrung as much water from it as he could out then returned to cabin with it. As carefully as he could, he raised Adam to a sitting position then stretched the hide out behind him and laid him back down. Pulling the damp hide around Adam's chest, Hoss saw that it was just wide enough. Now all he had to do was sew it closed. The long leather ties from Adam's saddle did the trick, poked and laced through the hastily made holes. Sitting back on his haunches, Hoss smiled. The hide, when it dried fully, would become as good a cast around Adam's battered body as anything Paul Martin could have devised.

By first light, Hoss had the horses ready to go and Adam situated on the travois. Adam seemed to be doing a little better and had once again that morning encouraged Hoss to leave him to get help. Hoss had pushed the suggestion aside as easily as he manhandled his brother into the bright clear summer morning.

"I leave you up here and I'd have to meet Pa with this faceful of hair on my own. No sirree, mister! We got into this deal together and that is how we are gonna get out of it. I may have to wait a while for you to heal up completely but you are gonna do my chores. I am gonna win this here bet," Hoss teased as he tied Adam to the travois behind the brown packhorse.

It was a touch reassuring when Adam had smiled up at him then gone back to sleep. Hoss again checked the ropes and was finally satisfied. Both that the ropes would hold and that Adam was asleep. Hoss had something to do that he thought if Adam had seen….well, Adam wouldn’t have understood.

In the cabin, Hoss again tilted the table on its side. With the door open, it made a good windbreak if you were in the far corner. And in the far corner, Hoss had piled fresh cut pine boughs to make a fragrant bed. On the ledge beside the fireplace, he carefully laid out his gifts: the small axe and the coffee pot.  With a glance around, he was satisfied. Sure, the place was a little more air-tight than before but Hoss figured that with the snows and cold of winter, it would be a welcome change. Hoss smiled to himself then stepped onto the rickety porch, leaving the door open behind him. As he looked out of the yard, he felt good about what he had done. The corral was gone, those limbs along with the wood they had cut and split for flooring he had pulled into various parts of the forest, letting them return to the whims of Nature. The paths through the grass would soon grow back over and the places where the horses had grazed would again come back to their prior lushness. Hoss figured in a month it would look like it had when he and Adam had first shown up.

Hoss gathered up the lead to the packhorse and the long lead he had finally decided he needed on Sport and was about to swing into the saddle when he thought of something. Leaving the horse's side, he went back to the porch and took the four blue stones from his vest pocket and left them there in the sunshine.

As he rode slowly from the clearing, Hoss looked straight ahead at the track they would take. He knew though that he had been watched. Out of the corner of one eye, he saw the shadow next to a crooked pine move.

Adam would never be completely sure of what he saw that morning. He passed it off as part of his delirium and would say nothing about it. But as they had left the cabin in the high mountains that morning, he thought he saw two hairy upright creatures in the edge of the woods. One was big, he thought, bigger than Hoss even though it was slightly bent and stooped. The other was smaller, maybe half the size of the other and held onto the side of the other until the travois was about to round a bend in the path. Then the smaller one broke from the side of the other and ran towards the cabin.

Epilogue

Neither Hoss nor Adam spoke to anyone else about what had actually happened at the shack those days that they were there. There was no mention of the "lost" coffeepot and the two axes that didn't return with them. When their father had made noises about sending someone else up there to repair the place, Hoss had quickly suggested that there was a better spot to put a line-shack in the smaller, closer valley. Adam had agreed, saying the other place wasn't worth fixing up and that there wasn't a copious enough water supply for any size herd of cattle.

And so for many years, the two brothers held the secret until finally a hunting trip in that area brought them back to it. The shack still stood, surprisingly. As Hoss stepped into it for the first time since he had left all those years before, his eyes instinctively went to the hearth. The coffeepot and the axe were gone. There, in their place under a thick layer of dust, were two blue stones. Hoss touched them with one blunt finger.

"Adam, when we were up here before," Hoss began, speaking softly although he had no reason to.

"I saw them," Adam spoke up, his voice full of the same awed quality of his brother's. "As we were leaving, I saw them in the shadows. Did you?"

Hoss shook his head no. "I saw one the night before we left. Adam, what was it? It wasn't a man, I mean like in human. Didn't act like no ape or nuthin' 'cause it knew about healing, at such. What was it?"

Adam rolled his shoulders and pulled his jacket closer in the night chill. "I think," he said slowly and evenly, "we should just say that they were friends, and leave it be."

Hoss grunted his assent. Later it would dawn on him that Adam had spoken of the creature in the plural sense. He would never push Adam for more information. He didn't have to since he was sure the creature he had seen that night was a female.

The End 

Oh! And who won the battle of the beards? That's another story for another time.

Tahoe Ladies

December 2002 to February 2003