Alone in the Wild Read online

  You rest for a bit, but now you’re exhausted—and parched. You spot a small stream only a few yards away, but you’ll have to climb down to reach it. Hours pass. Finally, you decide you’ve waited long enough. You’re certain that the wolves have gone on to find other prey.

  Still casting a wary eye around the area, you make your way down off the rock formation and drop to the ground. You pause when you hear a twig snap in the distance, but you don’t see anything but a bird flying away.

  You hurry to the stream and kneel to drink. A shadow falls in front of you. The wolves have gotten you.

   THE END

  Return to page 128

  You inspect the tiny bunches of flowers. It may be rock cress, a yellow or purple flower that grows in between boulders. You take off a tiny bud and eat it. It tastes surprisingly good—not bitter like dandelions. You try the white flowers next—they’re delicious! After you eat as much as you can, you stuff a bunch of flowers into your pockets. They’re not filling, but they do help ward off your immediate hunger pangs. Like the berries, they’ll be handy in a pinch.

  Snap watches you eat with round, doleful eyes.

  You rub his belly and keep moving on. There has to be another rodent or rabbit he could catch.

  As the breeze picks up, you smell something odd. Snap drops his nose to the ground and abruptly takes off, yelping. You follow him, startled.

  “What is it, boy? Slow down!”

  Huffing, you find him sniffing an animal lying on the ground. You grin, overwhelmed with relief.

  “A deer! Good job, Snap!” As you draw closer, you recoil in disgust. The deer is dead and it’s beginning to rot. Flies buzz around the half-eaten carcass.

  You’re briefly reminded of that last dinner you had the night before the big storm with Mama and Pa. You snap back to reality. Venison would fill your belly more than flowers. However, you could get really sick if you eat it. Should you cook it, or move on and find a better meal?

  To cook it, turn to page 98

  To move on, turn to page 108

  Return to page 24

  Even though you’ve been lost on the prairie, you still hope that you can find your family with a little help from this wagon train.

  “Thank you, but I think I need to try to find my parents.”

  Sam looks startled at your decision. “Well . . . all right. We don’t have much food to spare, but we’ll give you what we can.”

  In the end, they hand over only a small sack of cornmeal, some flour, salted buffalo meat, and stale johnnycakes. You say goodbye and watch the wagon train disappear over the horizon. You wonder if you’ve made a terrible mistake.

  You spend several more days in the desolate prairie. The river has become a tiny, muddy stream. You have nothing to boil water in, so you have to drink directly from the stream. The water tastes weird.

  One night, as you try to spark a flame with two sharp rocks, you hear footsteps.

  “Hello?” You look up and see a dark shadow growing closer. “Who’s there?”

  You hear a gasp, and then someone calling your name.

  “Mama? Pa? Is that you?”

  Seconds later, you’re enveloped in your parents’ arms. The three of you have a joyful reunion. Pa lights a campfire and tells you that he and Mama had separated from your wagon train to search for you.

  “We looked for you for days.” Pa watches you devour a slab of bacon. He exchanges defeated looks with Mama. “Buck told us we had to move on. But Mama and I wouldn’t have it. So we split from the wagon train to keep searching for you and left in a haste, we did. Had to drop most of our supplies. We’re running on bare bones. But that doesn’t matter: we found you.”

  Your parents look exhausted and haggard, and they are low on food. Pa tries to hunt prairie dogs and vultures the next day, but he’s only got one box of ammunition left. He’s so tired that he misses most of his shots and wastes the bullets.

  You and your parents may have found each other, but you’re trekking across a harsh prairie with dwindling food and no support. You won’t survive out here in the wild on your own for much longer.

   THE END

  Return to page 62

  You trust Tatsa’s instincts and decide to keep traveling with her. You turn to Smith’s wagon train. “Thank you for the offer, but we’ll continue on our own. We’ve found the Trail, we have our map, and we’re almost to Oregon Territory now. I’m confident we’ll be just fine.”

  William rubs his beard. “I don’t think that’s a great idea, but . . . if we can’t take you along with us, we can at least spare some food and supplies for your travels ahead. This area’s practically a desert. We’ve had a hard time of it ourselves.”

  “Thank you.” You nod. “That would be very helpful.” Tatsa smiles warmly.

  The travelers on Smith’s wagon train cobble together some flour, bacon, and cornmeal for your journey. You can’t carry much, but every little bit helps. The wagon train continues on. You, Tatsa, and Snap watch them disappear into the horizon.

  Tatsa promptly turns away toward the river nearby. You follow.

  With the Blue Mountains already in sight, you’re relieved when you finally see green again after traversing through desert-like conditions along the Snake River. It’s been at least two weeks. Rolling hills dotted with dark pines surround you as you pass over Crawford Hill for the Cascades and Mount Hood. The climb and descent through Crawford Hill is some of the most difficult terrain you’ve crossed, but you know it’s easier on foot without heavy wagons. Your leg muscles ache.

  Finally, your long descent gives way to flat plains as far as the eye can see. The map tells you the Columbia River is just north. You and Tatsa continue near the river due west until the Trail winds up into rolling green hills near The Dalles. After that, you head south into the pleasant, open Tygh Valley and start your journey into the Cascades. Snow-capped mountains covered with thick pine trees stretch up into the sky before you. You and Tatsa slowly climb up the unstable slope. The wind picks up. You shiver, huddling in your blanket. Patches of snow begin to appear on the Trail, and soon after, you find yourselves trudging through deep drifts.

  “Come on. We should hunt for food before it gets dark.” Tatsa pats you on the back. “The movement will get your body warm. Think of the nice, juicy elk meat!”

  “Or the lean, tough elk meat.” You slog through the snow after her.

  “The only thing that’s lean and tough up here is me,” she teases.

  “Hey!” You gather up a ball of snow and hurl it at her back. She shrieks and returns the favor. Snap, who’s been eating snow and chasing squirrels every moment he can, bounces between the both of you.

  Whumph!

  A strange sound halts your fun. Thundering comes ominously closer and closer. You see it: piles of snow sliding down the mountainside, crashing through the pines, headed right for you. It’s an avalanche! Should you try to outrun the fast-moving snow or climb a nearby tree?

  To outrun it, turn to page 73

  To climb a tree, turn to page 135

  Return to page 89

  You stay in hiding and avoid the girl entirely. You’re afraid you can’t trust anyone but yourself. You’ve heard stories of mountain men prowling these hills, of pioneers being robbed by fur trappers and bandits.

  Although Snap seems to want to run out and meet the girl, you hold him back. Cautiousness wins out in the end. You turn back up the mountain to try to make a wide angle around the girl.

  When you think you might have passed her, you can’t find the river. You continue downhill, hoping you’ll eventually run into it again. But the longer you hike down, the steeper and rockier your decline becomes. You stop to check your location against the sun. Your heart sinks. You’ve gotten turned around and you’ve been heading southeast—the opposite direction of where you need to go!

  Your path only becomes more difficult. You traverse steep and unforgiving rocky terrain with sharp drops and overhanging cliffs that lo
ok out into the valley below. You wander for hours. Attempting to scale down the boulders, you wait for Snap to follow after you.

  Then you hear the sound of something cracking. Frozen, you cry out as your feet drop out from under you. The rock beneath you splits and gives way. You tumble down the steep slope and finally land on the edge of a sharp cliff. Your leg is broken. You yell for help, but only your voice echoes in the mountains. No one is coming for you.

   THE END

  Return to page 111

  You decide to travel with William’s wagon train. You’re hopeful you’ll be able to convince Tatsa to come along.

  You pull Tatsa aside. “It’ll be much safer going with them. Please reconsider it? We can get through the Barlow Road on their wagon train. Otherwise, we’d have to sneak around it on foot. We’ll save time and food. We could even go off on our own after the tollgate.”

  She shakes her head firmly. “I don’t like this. If you go with them, I will go on alone.”

  “I’m sorry.” Your stomach wrenches. “But I think this is the better option.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  “Please, Tatsa?”

  Finally, she throws her hands up and frowns. “I guess this is where we part ways!”

  Your eyes tear up as she walks away. Your stomach sinks as you slowly climb into Smith’s wagon and start off. Snap runs beside the team of six oxen.

  “Now . . .” William holds the reigns. “We just passed Three Island Crossing. To be honest, we’ve gotten a little turned around in this area. Countryside all starts to look the same after a while.”

  “Well, I have a map!” You reach into your pocket and unfold it. “From what it looks like, we should stay to the north, near the mountains if we can. Our trail guide back on my own wagon train said that if we stray to the south, the road will be dry and difficult.”

  William nods, but he doesn’t take your map, much less glance at it. He seems confident that he’ll lead the wagon train in the right direction despite what he just told you.

  The road becomes hot and dusty, and William’s wagon train rides in circles searching for water.

  You should’ve trusted Tatsa. Your trek ends here.

   THE END

  Return to page 89

  You decide to look for food. You’re absolutely famished. You’ve finally got a decent fire going, and it’ll be likely another hour before it gets completely dark. The fire will keep while you try to forage for more berries—or grubs, if you have to. You’ve heard stories about people eating cattails. That doesn’t sound appetizing, but neither does eating bugs.

  After throwing more twigs onto the fire, you head off into the hills. You’re careful to stay within sight of the fire’s glow. The last thing you want is to lose your fire. You find waxy red berries—wax currants—and pick as many as you can. Then, raindrops start to fall. You run for cover under a pine tree and wait until it passes.

  You’ve wandered off too far from your fire. Your stomach still howls with hunger.

  You see smoke in the distance and you run back to find your kindling charred and smoking. You desperately try to fan the embers, but it’s too late. You collect more resin, but that doesn’t help.

  You don’t want to waste the few precious matches you have left, but right now the only thing that matters is staying alive and warm. Hastily, you fumble to strike another match, but your fingers are chilled to the bone and numb. The matchbox slips out of your hand into a puddle.

  As you reach to pick it up, the sky opens up into a downpour. It’s too dark, and you have no dry kindling or matches left.

  You should have built a shelter to keep yourself warm and protected for the night. There is no way you’ll get to Oregon City now.

   THE END

  Return to page 138

  You decide to reveal yourself. As much as you’re afraid of strangers, you dread being alone more.

  Before you can move out from behind the tree, the girl turns in your direction. “You can come out. I know you’re there.”

  Your cheeks grow hot. She’d never looked up once. How did she know you were standing there? So much for your tracking skills. You emerge from the trees and stand there awkwardly. “Hello.” You fumble with your hands. “I’m sorry, I just wasn’t sure if it was safe. I’ve been traveling alone for some time now.”

  The girl doesn’t respond. She continues to dig along the rocky shore of the river near pieces of driftwood.

  “How’d you know I was there?”

  “You’re pretty loud.” She smiles.

  “What? Really?”

  The girl glances over her shoulder. “Really. You’ve got a heavy footstep. You think you were watching me? No. I’ve been following you for two days now.”

  Snap bounds out into the clearing and licks the girl, his tail wagging wildly. She smiles and puts her hand out for him to smell her scent before she pets him.

  This girl seems nice, even if she has been tracking you for the past few days.

  “Why were you following me?”

  “I’m traveling alone too.”

  “Before you found me, did you happen to come upon a wagon train?” For a second, you fill with hope.

  “There are many traveling on the Trail, but I haven’t seen one for about a month.” She picks up a piece of driftwood.

  You frown, thinking of your family, but then perk up a bit and introduce yourself. You ask for the girl’s name.

  She pauses for a moment. “Tatsa. It means ‘summer’ in Shoshone.”

  You smile. “Pleased to meet you, Tatsa. What are you doing in the middle of the woods, traveling alone?”

  “I’m trying to reach Oregon Territory to find my remaining relatives there. I had been traveling with other family, including my older brother Dommo. Everyone, save for me, died. Overwhelmed with disease from passing fur trappers.”

  You swallow. “Smallpox.”

  “I barely survived.” Tatsa looks you in the eye. “My mother and father went on ahead to Oregon Territory weeks ago. They’ve set up their own trading post to trade with the white men and women, and Dommo and I were to join them later on. I’ve got to find them.” She looks down and presses her sharp stick into a small hole in the ground. “I’ve traveled farther distances before.”

  “By yourself?”

  “No, but it will not be that much different. I’ve been on my own for several weeks. I have not spoken with another person. The quiet has been nice, but I miss people.”

  “Is there a chance you’d want to travel together?” You hope she says yes. You could travel part of the way with each other, or at least until you find your wagon train again.

  “Why do you think I was following you?” She stops on the shore. “We are two young people traveling alone. It is always better to travel in groups.”

  You sigh, relieved. “I agree. Do you know the best way to get to Fort Hall from here?”

  “I know this area well. I am of the Agaidika Shoshone Nation. My family and I used to live near the Salmon River, in the valley, where food is plentiful. I won’t be stopping at Fort Hall, though. Do you still want to travel together?”

  What if your family is waiting for you at Fort Hall? On the other hand, the prospect of continuing to travel alone is worse than anything else. You decide quickly. “Yes. I’d be happy to come with you, Tatsa.”

  She nods, looking just as relieved as you are. “I’m glad to have company. It will be safer with the two of us together. Your dog will also warn against predators.”

  Then something hits the ground only inches away from you. You kneel and stare down at a ball of ice as large as your fist. More balls of ice start to fall around you.

  “Hail!” You leap to your feet. “We need to find cover!” You start for the nearest pine tree.

  “No, not that way!” Tatsa runs. “Follow me! I have a better idea!”

  You’re panicking. What should you do?

  To take cover in the trees, turn to page 58

 
; To follow Tatsa, turn to page 118

  Return to page 111

  You decide to jump in and cool off in the pond. After your long trek down Laurel Hill, you’re hot and sweaty. Flies and beetles buzz around your head. Now that you are out of the mountains, the air is sticky. The thought of remaining in these filthy clothes is too disgusting. You need a bath, and badly.

  You kick off your moccasins and dive into the deeper part of the water, fully submerging your head. The warm water feels good against your skin. You swim around for a few minutes, scrubbing your arms and face, and finally emerge in drenched clothes. You wring out your buckskin tunic and shake out your hair.

  Tatsa stands by the edge of the water. Usually she’s the first one in—warm or cold, rain or shine.

  “You’re not coming in?”

  She shakes her head slowly. “No, I think not.”

  Uncertainty flickers through you. “Why not?”

  “The water is still. Not good to wash in.” She frowns down at the pond, dragging a hand through it. “I would not bathe in this water if I were you.”