The Fishing Trip or The End of an Era

By Beppina

Joe Cartwright stepped out onto the timbered porch, stretched and breathed deeply of the fresh spring air, heavy with the scent of the pines that gave their name to the Ponderosa Ranch. Finally, winter had gone and spring weather had put in an appearance, much to his and his family’s delight and relief.

Adam and Hoss were still away, probably somewhere between Placerville and home by now, or so he hoped. He had been a bit peeved when his father had informed him Hoss would be going with Adam, rather than himself.  But then had realised his Pa just wanted Joe and Pa time without his older brothers on hand. So far, the two weeks had been most enjoyable. They had worked together during the day, riding the range, checking stock and fences. Even Joe taking time to look at the bookwork involved with a business operation the size of his home. All in all, he had relished this time far more than he had expected and was grateful for the opportunity he’d been given.

Joe had done all the morning chores, his brothers’ included. The family mounts were all turned out into the corral to get some fresh air and a run around before being saddled for work.

“Hey Pa,” Joe called back to the house, “it’s a glorious day, d’ya fancy goin’ fishin’ after breakfast?”

Ben Cartwright strolled out to join his youngest son, placed an arm across his boy’s shoulders,

“That sounds a good idea son.” he agreed, “We’re right up to-date on all the jobs I wanted doing before your brothers returned so I reckon we deserve to have a day off!”

“Great Pa,” Joe laughed, “whose turn is it to do breakfast?”

An hour later both were mounted up, fishing poles across the saddles and a few sandwiches wrapped tightly in their saddlebags.

“Let’s ride,” Ben announced, turning Buck’s head away from the house and towards the road and the lake. Joe followed behind on Cochise until they cleared the barns and corrals and were on the open road.

“I’m going to run Cooch Pa,” he called across to his father, “I’ll see you at the lake ok?”

“Usual place?” Ben queried.

“Yeah, guess so, we can see how they’re biting and move on if need be.”

“Ok, I’ll catch up with you there. Be careful!”

Joe laughed, “Yes Pa!” and urged Cochise into a gallop.

A half-hour later, Joe leapt from his horse, eased the cinch strap and led the paint into the shade of some trees near the water’s edge.

“You just rest here boy while I get the poles set up for me ‘n’ Pa.”

 The task took very little time as he organised a couple of rocks to wedge the poles in place. He pulled out the worm can, tipping a few into his hand before balancing it on a flat rock, in one smooth movement he threw the worms out into still blue water.

“Hopefully that’ll bring us a good catch in,” he mused, “Fried fish for dinner, if we’re lucky!”

He turned to see if his father was approaching across the meadow. Even if he’d been trotting Buck, he should have caught up by now. Joe frowned as he looked across the open land, still anticipating his father’s arrival.

“Come on Pa, what’s keeping you?” he asked himself, “I’ll give you another ten minutes then …”

  As he spoke, the big buckskin can into sight at the very edge of the meadow. The horse was walking slowly, picking its way across the grassland. Something wasn’t right, Joe could see from where he stood that his father was leaning across Buck’s neck.

Joe ran to his horse, pulled the cinch tight and swung aboard. Turned Cooch’s head towards his father’s direction, and galloped to meet him.

“Pa…Pa…” he shouted as he neared the slumped figure.

“Pa, what’s wrong?” he cried as he grabbed at Buck’s rein pulling the big buckskin to him. “Pa, can you answer me?”

Joe slipped to the ground, moved to his father’s side and reached up to his face. Ben Cartwright was slumped so far forward Joe had difficulty seeing his features. He reached  to feel for a pulse on his father’s neck. There was just a very faint throb, very erratic and barely noticeable, but it was there.

Now Joe had a problem. If he got Ben down from the saddle he wouldn’t be able to move him very far. Nor would he be able to remount him to return to the ranch house. Ben’s breathing was very shallow, with a long pause between each inhale and exhale, which gave Joe even more cause for concern.

“Think Cartwright,” he told himself, “I need help, who’s nearby? I’m sure there are hands in this section, might get lucky.”

Holding both horses’ reins in one hand he drew his pistol and fired three shots into the air. Both mounts pulled but stood at his side. His father remained motionless.

He fired another three shots before replacing his gun. Joe looked across the meadow towards the direction of his home. He knew it would take a good fortyfive minutes to walk the horses home, possibly longer if he was supporting his father. Would it be better to wait for help to arrive or begin to make his way back on his own, a decision he had to make and make quickly?

Taking his lariat he managed to secure Ben to his saddle, wrapping the bedroll around him to prevent any rope friction burns where he could. Finally satisfied his father wouldn’t slip from Buck’s wide back, Joe mounted up and began the slow journey back to the house. The sun was beginning to heat up by now causing more cause for concern, with Ben wrapped in the bed role he could overheat and exacerbate whatever was ailing him. Joe wanted, no, needed, to get his father home as quickly as possible.

Slowly they made their way across the meadow, Buck plodding along at Cochise’s side without complaint, Joe holding onto his father as well as he could. Three horses appeared in the distance, the dust as they galloped towards him creating a pale cloud. An arm raised in salute as the rider spotted Joe in the distance and a gunshot rang out.

“Thank you God!” he muttered as the riders swiftly covered the remaining ground between them.

“What’s happened Joe, what’s wrong with Mr Cartwright?” the oldest of the hands asked as he rode alongside Joe.

“I dunno Pete,” came the reply. “Steve, get into town and get the doc out to the house as quick as you can. Tell him it’s Pa an’ it’s real urgent.”

Steve Grey wheeled his mount and galloped off towards Virginia City.

“Is it worth me getting a wagon out here Joe?” the third cowboy, Cy, asked.

“Yeah, don’t bother with padding, we’ll use the bedrolls. Quick as you can Cy ok?” He too set off at a gallop and in a cloud of dust.

“I’ve gotta take it slow, I don’t want Pa fallin’.”

“Sure Boss, I’ll ride the other side, two of us should keep him safe.”

They were probably halfway home when Cy drove the wagon into view in the distance. Together Joe and Pete stopped their mounts, jumped to the ground and began releasing the older man from the lariat restraint. Ben slumped even further forward in his saddle as Peter slipped his foot from the stirrup.

“Ok Joe, let’s ease him down slowly.”

Together, the two men took the dead weight on their shoulders and slid him from the saddle to the ground. Joe felt for the pulse in his father’s neck. It was still there, albeit very weak and erratic.

“Pete, you get on the back, Cy, you help me get Pa up to the back of the wagon…”

Together, the three young men eased and pulled Ben Cartwright up and onto the flatbed. Again Joe wrapped the bedroll around his father and then climbed onto the seat.

“Bring the horses Pete, let’s get back to the house.” Joe stated as he chucked the horses into movement.

Fighting the urge to race home, Joe guided the wagon across the bumpy ground trying to avoid the worst of the ruts and rocks. He was very aware of the fragility of his father laying prone in the back.

 Eventually, after what seemed an eternity but was in reality not too long a time, they pulled up in front of the ranch house. Pete swung down from his mount and raced to the front door, pushed it wide open, and ran back to Joe.

“Take his legs Pete.” Joe ordered as he eased his father into a sitting position. Together they shuffled Ben to the rear of the wagon, Pete supported him while Joe clambered down then both pulled him feet first to the ground.

“The downstairs bedroom will be fine.” Joe gasped at the weight of Ben. Both he and Pete were slightly built and struggled under the bulk of Ben Cartwright. Cy left the horses by the barn, ran across and added his strength to theirs to get his Boss into the house.

With some difficulty, they managed to get Ben into the guest bedroom and onto the bed.

“We’ll sort the horses and wagon Joe, can I get you anything while you wait for the Doc?” Pete asked, his voice filled with concern now they had taken care of the initial situation.

“No thanks Pete, just stay handy, I might need you later. Thanks for your help boys. Couldn’t have managed on my own.”

“We’ll be out front then, just yell if’n you need us.” Pete agreed and ushered Cy out into the yard.

Joe sat at his father’s bedside, his hand on Ben’s forehead, expecting to find a raised temperate but surprised he was still cool. Gently he brushed the silver-white hair from his father’s brow, a gesture he knew well from his own experience of injury and illness.

The pulse was still present, but it seemed even weaker than before.

“Oh Pa,” he murmured, “what’s happening to you? I wish Adam or Hoss were here or Hop Sing, he’d know what to do.”

He sat clutching Ben’s hand, talking softly, imploring his father to open his eyes or speak to him, or at least groan. This complete immobility and silence were scaring him more than he liked to admit. Joe knew it would be a while before Paul Martin would arrive. It was a good four-hour journey from town at the best of times in a buggy as Paul didn’t like to ride. Joe just hoped Steve was making good time on his ride into Virginia City.

Time dragged its feet as Joe sat at his father’s bedside. He clutched the cold hand and murmured soft words encouraging Ben to open his eyes, or squeeze his hand, anything to show he was aware his youngest son was with him. Nothing caused a reaction, it was as though Ben had departed his body leaving just an empty shell.

A slam of the front door alerted Joe to another presence,

“Joe, where are you?” a familiar voice shouted.

“Here Doc, guest room, come on in please.”

Doctor Paul Martin filled the doorway, nodded in greeting to his young friend and turned to the prone figure on the bed.

“What happened Joe?” he asked as he felt for a pulse.

“Dunno Doc. He was like this when I found him. Be about 6 hours ago now. What’s wrong with him?”

“Patience Joe, let me have a good look…where are your brothers?”

“Comin’ back from Placerville, I hope.”

“Hop Sing?”

“Virginia City, at his cousins place, back tomorrow I think.”

Paul Martin nodded, then ‘hmmmed’ to himself. He pinched Ben’s hand, no reaction. Rummaged in his bag to find a pin and proceeded to stick it into Ben’s arm, still no reaction. He checked his eyes again, this time with a lighted match, the pupils remained wide with no change of dimension. Again Paul ‘hmmmed’. He listened to Ben’s chest, finding the heartbeat slow and very irregular, matching the rate of breathing.

“Paul?” Joe spoke, fear tainting his voice.

“When do you expect Adam and Hoss to get here?”

“Tomorrow, that was the plan…what’s wrong with my father Paul?

Paul Martin stepped away from the bed to Joe’s side, placed a hand on the young man’s shoulder as he answered his question,

“I’m sorry Joe, I think your father has had a stroke, a serious one I’m afraid. I don’t think there is anything…”

“A stroke? He’ll be ok though?” Joe’s voice rose in anxiety.

Paul shook his head slowly,

“No Joe, I’m sorry but I doubt he will. Normally his eyes would react to light, his body would react to pain, but there’s nothing.”

“There must be something you can do? What’s caused it?”

“I can’t explain it Joe, it could be many things. We don’t know enough about the brain to say. We know it’s to do with the brain but what…” he shrugged his shoulders sadly, “I wish I knew.”

“He’s dying, my Pa’s dying.” Joe whispered, “He can’t, it’s not his time. He’s not old, he’s been fit all his life. How can he be dying, I don’t understand.” Tears began to trickle down his cheeks, he cuffed them away angrily. “I wont let him die, I wont let him!”

Paul pulled another chair across to sit at Joe’s side. He took the clenched fist into his own as he spoke,

“Listen to me Joe, if your father survives this, and that is a huge if, he will not be the father you know and love. He will never open his eyes or speak again. He will never know you are here. The damage to his brain is just too severe. That’s why his eyes aren’t reacting and he isn’t feeling any pain.”

 “So to all intents and purposes he’s…he’s…he’s already…dead? No, it’s not possible!” Joe’s voice was a full octave higher as he approached hysteria at this information.

 “Unless there is a miracle, then I’m afraid that is the case.”

 Joe dropped his head into his hands, shaking it in disbelief at the Doctor’s words.

 “What do I do do now?” he whispered. “I don’t know what to do?”

 “I’ll be here with you. I need to send a message to town, if there is an emergency they know where to find me. I’ll make sure Hop Sing returns immediately and send a wire to see if your brothers are on their way back.”

 Joe nodded his agreement, “Pete should be in the yard, ask him to come in please, he can ride into town.” He quickly scribbled a message for Hop Sing and a second for Adam, handed Pete a handful of cash with his instructions and sent him on his way. Moments later they could hear the sound of hooves as the horse trotted out of the yard and broke into a gallop and away to Virginia City.

 The day passed very slowly, at times it appeared to stand still.

 Joe never moved from his father’s side. Holding his hand or stroking his cheek and still murmuring words of love and encouragement. Paul sat to one side, a book in hand but not seeing the printed word, his gaze fixed on his old friend as he lay comatose on the bed and the young man trying his hardest to be brave at his bedside.

 “I’ll go and make some coffee Joe, do you think you could eat something for me?” he asked breaking the silence.

 “Just coffee thanks, not hungry.”

 Paul nodded in understanding. He had known Joe for the whole of his 20  years. He had delivered him in fact, and was well aware how quickly Joe would go off his food if under duress, stressed or worried. Forcing the issue didn’t work so he would leave him be for the present. As he waited for the coffee to brew he stood thinking,

 ‘Hop Sing should be arriving home soon, how long was it since Pete rode out, mid morning, mid day, what was the time now, coming five oclock? Hopefully he would be at the house sooner rather than later. Come to that, would Adam and Hoss get back this evening, I sure hope so.’

 He soon returned to the guest room, two mugs of steaming brew in hand, handed one to Joe then resumed his vigil on the opposite chair.

 Whispering, “Thanks Paul.” as he took the proffered mug.

 The front door banged open, and a torrent of Chinese preceded the little Chinese man as he rushed into the room.

 “What happen Little Joe, why Mr. Ben so sick?” he stood at Joe’s side, his eyes firmly fixed on his Boss and old friend’s still face.

 Paul spoke before Joe could reply, “I think it’s a stroke Hop Sing, I don’t know for sure but it seems to fit all the indications for one.”

 “He get better quick?” Hop Sing questioned.

 “I don’t think so.” was all Paul could answer. Hop Sing looked at Ben, then at Joe’s wretched expression.

 “We can try?” he asked. Paul had no words, he just shook his head sadly. Hop Sing ‘harrumphed’ loudly as he left the room, picked up his carpet bad and made his way through the kitchen to his private quarters. In the privacy of his room, he lit some scented candles in front of his little shrine. He whispered a few prayers for his boss and then set about helping the doctor and Joe. Sandwiches were prepared, and more coffee was put on to brew. Fresh water was drawn and clean linens and rags were found if required.

 “Doctor eat, Little Joe eat,” he ordered putting the sandwich platter on the bureau along with the freshly made coffee. “Hop Sing sit with Mr. Ben, you eat!”

 Unwilling to move but not wanting to offend their Chinese helpmate, both took a sandwich and tried to eat it. Hop Sing meanwhile had taken the doctor’s seat and was talking to his Boss as he wet his lips with a damp cloth.

 “Mr Ben need a drink?” he asked the Doctor.

 “No Hop Sing, he can’t swallow, just as you are doing is best.”

 The evening turned into night. The bedside vigil continued in virtual silence, Joe at his father’s side, Paul sat opposite and Hop Sing in and out keeping them supplied with coffee. He’d lit the fire in the hearth of the living room so that some heat would circulate through to the cold bedroom. Tidied up whatever mess had been left in the kitchen from Joe and Ben’s cooking attempts then joined the others at Ben’s bedside.

 Ben remained motionless. His condition unchanged since his collapse. Joe and Hop Sing kept dampening his lips, the doctor checking his vital signs frequently. All were tired, exhausted in fact, but refused to rest or sleep. Hop Sing tried to persuade Joe to lay down for a while on the sofa, promising to wake him if need be but was met with a defiant refusal to leave his father’s side.

 “I’ll sleep when my brothers get here,” he told him, “they should be home later this morning.”

Hop Sing returned to his kitchen to start his normal daily tasks, anything to keep himself occupied while they waited.

Dawn broke, and the sky began to lighten from black to grey as the new day began. Joe was praying his brothers would be riding in early to take some of the responsibility from his shoulders. Paul stretched wearily and once again checked Ben’s vitals. He frowned as he felt for the pulse, then listened for the heartbeat. He checked the eyes once again, still with no reaction.

 “Is there any improvement?” Joe asked warily, eyes red and puffy from the silent tears he had shed during the long night.

 “I’m sorry to say no, Joe.” Paul pulled the blanket back over Ben’s shoulders. “If anything it’s worse. His breathing is deteriorating, and his heart is labouring. I don’t know what else to say other than I’m so very sorry.”

 Joe ran a hand through his rather mussed hair, pushing his curls from his eyes then rubbed his face.

 “How long?” he whispered, his voice breaking.

 “A day, maybe two. I doubt any more.”

 Joe bit hard on his lip, trying hard not to break down, “You’re sure?”

 “As sure as I can be Joe. We don’t know enough about this sort of thing yet.”

They both stood as the smell of fresh coffee floated through from the kitchen, followed swiftly by the pad – pad of Hop Sing bringing the coffee pot to the dining table.

 “I make sandwiches now, first you drink coffee.” he ordered before turning on his heel and returning to his domain.

 Not too far out from the house, Adam and Hoss were riding side by side. Their mounts wanted to break into a gallop as they knew they were close to home and a feed bin full of their favourite fodder.

 “D’ya reckon Hop Sing ‘ll fix us some breakfast?” Hoss questioned. “I’m starvin’! I haven’t had a decent meal since we left here. I musta lost some weight, I feel plumm skinny!”

 Adam laughed, “I’m sure he’ll cook you up something. I’ll be glad to sleep in my own bed that’s for sure.”

 “Me too, brother, me too. I wonder what little brother has been up to while we’ve been away. D’ya think him an’ Pa have got all those jobs done?”

 “I would think Pa has kept little brother on a short leash this last couple of weeks. No skiving off and doing our chores I’m sure.”

 “I reckon I can smell Hop Sing’s cooking, definitely bacon on the air. Let’s pick up speed an’ get on home.”

 “Hey Pa, Joe,” Hoss shouted as he pushed open the front door and stepped into the room, “we’re home. Where are you? Pa, Joe?”

 Hop Sing ran from the kitchen, “Mr Hoss, Mr Hoss, where Mr Adam, fetch him quick, chop chop, need him now.” Hoss frowned, turned and shouted across the yard for the eldest of the Cartwright sons. A minute later Adam stood beside his larger brother and Hop Sing.

 “What’s wrong? Where are Pa and Joe?” Adam asked.

 Paul stepped from the bedroom,

 “I’ll explain,” he started. Hop Sing disappeared into the bedroom as Paul began his account of Ben’s situation. He spared no details and told them of everything that he knew, from Joe finding Ben on his horse to his present condition.

 “Joe?” Adam asked.

 “With your father, in there.” he pointed to the room behind him, “He needs you.”

 The three Cartwright sons stood together arms wrapped around each other in comfort. Hoss holding the youngest tight in his arms, Adam embracing both.

 “We’re here now.” He comforted, “We’re here.”

 Adam took his place by the bed, Hoss at his side with Joe in his place, his fingers stroking the back of the gnarled hand.

 “Adam n Hoss are here Pa.” he told his father, “we’re all here now. You don’t have to wait any longer.”

 “We’re home Pa, we did all you wanted. You can let go now you don’t have to hold on.” Adam touched Ben’s cheek as he spoke.

 “ That’s right Pa,” now Hoss spoke, “if’n it’s time, then that’s ok.”

 Paul checked Ben again, the pulse was weak but still there, the breathing worse than before. His face seemed more relaxed than it had been. As he worked he spoke to Ben, softly so none of the sons would hear. “Goodbye Ben, you’ve been a good friend and I will miss you. It’s time for you to let go. Join your wives…”

 Then to the boys, “I’ll leave you boys, for a while. If you need me I’ll be in the kitchen with Hop Sing.” He left the room quietly.

 Together they watched and waited.

Until that moment.

They all held their father’s hands as Ben took his final breath.

Tears coursed down Joe’s face as he gasped back sobs. Hoss let the tears flow freely. Adam let out the breath he didn’t realise he had been holding.

 “Goodbye Pa,” he stated, “We love you and always will. Go forth to the undiscovered country in peace and with love.” his voice broke as he finished.

 The boys sat around the bed, talking softly of their father and their lives together. They hadn’t anticipated this day coming quite so soon, but now it was here and they would deal with it.

Together.

 Epilogue.

 Adam, Hoss and Joe continued the running of The Ponderosa in the manner of their Father. They followed in his footsteps in the conservation and care of the land and the methods of animal husbandry. They built the ranch into a larger entity and diversified into differing fields, successfully.

 Adam left after three years to work in Europe, he was 35. Joe and Hoss took on the management of the ranch and continued in the same manner. Joe was 23 and Hoss 29.

 Ben Cartwright’s enduring legacy was his sons and his Ponderosa Ranch.

                                                   Fin.

29.04.2022.