by RJ Krause
Chapter 7
The Double “P” Ranch
Below us were acres and acres of small green trees. Further down the slopes I saw a double corral with a fairly large ranch style house off to one side. Beyond the rows of coffee trees a large herd of cattle grazed in the sun.
“Eh brah, this one nice place Pete’s got,” Keala said as we surveyed the land before us. We began our descent down the slopes of the volcano and came to a gate with a double ‘P’ branded into a beautiful Koa wood sign.
“I reckon this must be Pete’s place. Let’s get a move on before I fall off my horse.”
It took longer than we expected to reach the corral area. It was almost mid-morning when we finally reached the clearing. Pete was in the corral speaking to the very same horse that had stomped me a good one the day before. The horse stood there with his head hanging down as if he was ashamed of what he’d done. Pete continued to brush him and spoke to him softly.
As we rode up to the corral, Keala had a big smile on his face. “Hey Bill, how come you let such a nice horse bust you up so good? More better I let little Pualani ride this horse. It looks about right for one small wahine.”
Now I’d just spent nearly ten hours straddled across a horse in a very uncomfortable saddle. I was stiff and sore and not exactly in a very good mood. But it seems that no matter how low I felt, that big Hawaiian could always cheer me up.
“Shoot Keala, I’d be happy to ride your horse back if you’d care to ride this here bronco home for your little girl.” Although Keala had a smile on his face, I could see in his eyes that he wanted no part of that horse.
“Howdy Bill, Keala. What brings you to the Double ‘P’ Ranch? I suppose you two boys could use some hot coffee and a bite to eat. Bill, I gotta say you are not a pretty sight this early in the morning with your leg all taped up and your ear dripping blood all over my clean dirt.”
The better I got to know Pete, the more I came to appreciate his sense of humor. Sure enough, my ear was bleeding through the stitches and I needed help getting down off my horse. Keala’s way of helping me out of my saddle was to pick me up like a young calf in his massive arms and carry me over to the bench next to the corral. As I looked up I saw the cause of all my pain staring right at me with one eye through the wood planks of the corral. It was that same Appaloosa mare that near killed me.
“I doubt if she’s still mad at you Bill if you’d care to invite her to breakfast,” Pete said with a big smile.
“More better we just leave these two lovebirds alone together so they can make up and talk story,” Keala chimed in. “Me though, I sure could use one cup of coffee!”
“If you two are done with the jokes, I’d appreciate a new bandage for this ear before I drip blood all over this beautiful bench.”
And beautiful it was. It looked like Koa wood that had been cut and fit together perfectly. Maile leaves intertwined with small birds that had been carved from a lighter color wood and were inlaid around the top edges. It was a stunning work of craftsmanship.
“Heck Pete, this bench should be in a museum somewhere, not out here by the corral with a bloody old cowboy sittin’ on it.”
“Never mind, it’s not for show. Woodworking is just something I do for fun. Now let’s see if we can get you put back together and go have some breakfast.”
While my two friends replaced my bandages, I explained to Pete why we had ridden all night to see him. I tried to offer my thanks for what he did for me. This was the first time I heard one of Pete’s favorite expressions. I would hear it many times over in the years to come.
“Ain’t nothin’ but a thing, Bill. You didn’t need to ride all this way just to thank me for lending a hand to a friend. I’m sure you’d have done the same for me. I will tell you one thing though, that feisty horse wasn’t nearly so hard to ride as was keeping that stovepipe hat on my head!”
In all the years I knew him, Pete had always been able to brush off a bad situation with a smile and his legendary wink. That reminds me of another story about him that happened when we were a might younger than I am now.
I ended up working for Pete full time at the Double ‘P’ Ranch. One day Pete went off as usual to check the herd for new calves. When he didn’t return that night or the next, I started to worry. We set out to look for him on the third day and finally found his horse. It wasn’t the regular horse he always rode, but a different one that he’d ridden out a couple days before. When we saw that horse lying there on the ground, we assumed the worst. It appeared that a wild boar had charged the horse and gored it pretty badly. When the horse fell, the boar attacked Pete. The horse had died from its wounds and lying a few feet ahead was the dead boar. There was a knife wound in the boar and signs that it had been a pretty rough fight, but there was still no sign of Pete.
We followed a trail of dried blood for about a quarter mile and discovered Pete laying face down in a lava tube about fifteen feet deep. His shirt was ripped, and one whole side of his body was covered in dried blood. There were long gashes over both arms and his leg was bent at a strange angle. I had little hope for Pete after seeing his wounds. We used our ropes to lower ourselves into the lava tube and when we reached him and rolled him over, his face was a mess. His nose was broken and his face was covered with bruises.
I was pretty sure what had happened. The boar had attacked Pete’s horse, and Pete attacked the boar. Looking at him lying there all busted up, I didn’t have much hope. I knelt down next to him and put my ear to his heart to see if by some miracle he was still alive and breathing.
“Aw Bill, if you wanted to hug me, all you had to do was ask.”
I looked into his glassy eyes with disbelief and watched him slowly lower one lid and give me that wink of his. The next second he passed out. It was a good thing he was unconscious because we had to use ropes to haul him out of the hole and tie him on the back of my horse. That was the only way we could get him back home.
Now I know I’ve been rambling on way too much, jumping back and forth in my story about Paniolo Pete. I probably have you readers a might confused, but like I said early on, I ain’t no writer.