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The Wagon Train Trek Page 6
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He sticks out his tongue.
The next day, Pa pulls you aside. “The terrain up ahead will be tricky. We have to make sure we keep the oxen as calm as possible. I need you to stay by my side at all times. Do you understand?”
You nod, although you’re sad you can’t walk alongside Annie and Matthew today. They’d wanted to play games on the Trail. Games will have to wait.
For the next several hours, you help Pa carefully lead the oxen over the rolling hills toward Big Springs. The terrain, while still somewhat difficult, is much easier than it would have been had you descended into the valley yesterday. The tired oxen never would have made it back up these hills. In addition, there are many clear, fresh springs nearby. The oxen drink greedily when they can.
“I think this is what Big Springs gets its name from.” Pa rinses his hands in the water. “I’ve heard this area is an exceptional watering location due to its plentiful springs.”
You want to drink, but you should boil it first, just to be safe.
Finally, you come along a more gradual slope that leads up to a tiny town square, with a general store, a blacksmith, a church, and a wagon-repair shop.
“It should be called Small Springs,” you whisper to Pa.
He smiles.
Small or not, Big Springs is a pleasant town with about forty residents in total. There are some traders and soldiers passing through. It’s a good place to check your location on the map and stock up on supplies.
Pa and Mr. Whittaker head over to the small platoon of soldiers to ask about the journey ahead. You want to go with him, but Ma needs your help getting goods at the general store.
Ma talks to the man behind the counter and meets two Native American women of the Kansa Nation. You are looking at the shelved goods when you come across a tall man with a big fur-covered hat.
“Hey, kid.” He’s holding a stack of blankets. “It’ll get cold up in them mountains. You should get some of these. Nice and warm. Reckon you don’t want to freeze to death.”
Ma gave you a little spending money, but you should ask her first before buying anything. You also want to prove you’re old enough to be responsible. What should you do?
If you buy blankets, turn to page 18
If you ask Ma first, turn to page 71
Return to page 111
You may not be familiar with the Columbia River, but your family doesn’t have much money left. You’ll need to make sure you have enough to enjoy your new life in Oregon City. Paying for a guide after you’ve spent so much could be a waste.
“We could try to make it down the river ourselves,” you say. “We can go very slowly. Communicate about rocks up ahead.”
Pa and Ma agree that you should save as much money as possible.
You build two rafts and start off down the river, leaving your wagons behind. Pa and the other men drive the livestock along the bank of the river. You didn’t anticipate how strong this river’s current would be, or how many small rapids would cause your rafts to tip. One strong dip into a rocky patch sends your rafts tipping over completely. You and the others are dragged under the strong currents.
THE END
Return to page 45
You need more food, but you’ve just lost one ox to exhaustion. Your team wouldn’t make it if you sold off two more.
“We can sell off things we don’t need.” You scrape what few valuables you have left and try to sell them, but no one needs them here at the station.
“Sorry, folks,” says the station manager. “We need useful supplies. Blankets, clothing, shoes.”
You and your parents exchange frustrated glances.
“But we need these supplies to get to Oregon City.” Ma holds onto a blanket. “We can’t sell these!”
The man shrugs. “Sorry, ma’am. Nothing I can do.”
You take your parents aside. “What if we went back to The Dalles?”
Pa sighs. “Go back the way we came?”
“We can’t afford to pay the toll and buy more food, Pa. What if we try to meet up with the other two wagons at the river?”
You’ve come this far, but it wouldn’t make much sense to keep going if you can’t afford anything in Oregon City. Coming to the Barlow Gate was a mistake.
“All right,” says Pa. “Let’s try it. We don’t have much of a choice.”
You wave goodbye to the Masons, who continue along the Barlow Road. The Whittakers agree to go back with you, as they can’t afford to pay the toll and buy supplies either.
You reach the Columbia River. The current is strong and the water is rushing by at a high level. It’s been raining and snowing in the area. Should you try to raft down the river now or wait to see if the other wagons show up first?
If you wait for the other two wagons, turn to page 104
If you raft now, turn to page 50
Return to page 53
You remind Pa that he has agreed to be a doctor in Oregon City and that it’s not a good idea to split up the wagon train.
“It’s better if we keep going to Oregon City, Mr. Whittaker,” you say. “I’ve been hearing from some traders and soldiers in the fort that the Gold Rush might be over.”
Mr. Whittaker frowns. “Have you? I suppose I’ll have to ask around, then.”
“That might be a smart idea.” Pa nods. “Let us know your decision by the end of the day, but we’d be sorry to see you go.”
Mr. Whittaker returns within the next few hours, his head hung low. “I think you were right.” He holds his hat in his hands. “I ran into a family on their way back from California. They’re heading back East. Looks like whatever gold was in California seems to have been swept up in the Rush.”
“Does that mean you and the O’Neils are staying with our wagon train?” Ma wipes her hands on her apron.
The carpenter nods. “That we are.”
“In that case, Mr. Whittaker. I think you and your family need to come join us for some slices of my famous apple pie.” Ma reaches for the skillet.
You’re so relieved the Whittakers and O’Neils aren’t leaving for California. That night, you, Matthew, and Annie play games around the campfire. You tell one another what you look forward to the most in Oregon City.
“Finally having our own brand-new farmhouse,” Annie says. “With more horses than we can count!”
“Having more food than I can stomach.” Matthew pats his belly. “All the chicken and potatoes in the world.”
You laugh. “You just had two slices of pie. You can’t still be hungry.”
“I’m always hungry.”
The next morning, Ma gets some last-minute supplies at the small store in the fort, including another pair of shoes for each of you. “You’ll need them for the mountains ahead. And we should probably get a few more blankets—just not from a swindler!”
You both grin at the reminder of that “trader” in Big Springs.
“Excuse me.” A uniformed man approaches you. “I couldn’t help but overhear. If you’re going farther on the Trail, there’s a patch of alkaline springs up ahead. Bad drinking water. There have been some bad bouts of cholera in the area.”
“Thank you,” you say. “We’ll be sure to be careful.”
You leave Fort Hall and eventually continue on through Fort Boise, the last fort before you get into mountain territory. You can’t believe you’ve made it this far with your entire wagon train intact! You’ve stuck together, and that is the most important thing out here in the West.
* * *
One morning, you come across a lone wagon headed in the opposite direction. It’s a young man with his head hung low, at the reins of four very sad-looking oxen. When he sees you, he waves wildly.
Pa pulls the reins and stops. The other five wagons pause in line after him.
“Hello, there!” Pa calls. “What seems to be the trouble?”
“Sir, I am in desperate need of your help,” the young man says. “I had been on the Trail with my family, but they fell ill
with cholera not even two days ago. I am the only one left. I’ve been wandering around for miles. I’m not sure where I am anymore. I haven’t slept in hours. Can you help me?”
Pa casts an uneasy look to you and Ma. Of course, as a doctor, he wants to help. As captain, he wants to ensure the safety of the wagon train.
“How can we help?” Pa asks kindly.
“Would you be able to help me get back to Fort Boise? I need to properly bury my parents.” The young man points to the back of his wagon.
You left Fort Boise about a day ago, and you’re already into the heart of the Blue Mountains. You’d lose too much time going back. Pa knows he has a responsibility to help those in need.
“What do you think?” he murmurs to you and Ma. “Should we help escort him back to the fort?”
You’re not sure what to do. You know Pa should help the poor young man, but you also have to think about your own wagon train.
If you try to offer another kind of support, turn to page 135
If you help the young man get to Fort Boise, turn to page 39
Return to page 78
You choose to run for the gun instead of waking Pa. He’ll be awake in a minute, anyway. King George and George Washington are already starting to bark and howl at the surrounding predators.
You rush to load the gun, but your fingers are sweating and shaky. You lift the gun toward the nearby yapping sounds of the coyotes, heaving it to your shoulder—
BANG!
The gun accidentally misfires. It blinds you with a puff of smoke and sends you tumbling back to the ground. Your ears ring, and all you can feel is pain. Your wagon train trek ends here.
THE END
Return to page 135
You need to help this poor young man in some way, but if you escort him back to Fort Boise, you will lose too much time. Your wagon train may decide to go on without you.
“What if we help him bury his family here?” you suggest to Pa and Ma. “And give him a map and some of our food and supplies?”
“Of course we can.” Ma’s eyes soften. “The poor boy has lost everything. The least we can do is give him food and blankets if he needs them.”
“We’ll just need to be careful,” says Pa. “Cholera spreads easily.”
He offers to help the young man bury his family and supply him with whatever he needs to return to Fort Boise. “Unfortunately, we will not be able to accompany you there personally. But we can provide a map and directions, should you need them.”
The man is grateful for the help. Together, Pa, Mr. Whittaker, and Mr. O’Neil dig graves for the young man’s parents. A small funeral service is held.
Ma hands the young man a thick blanket and a small supply of flour, cornmeal, and well-packed bacon.
“Thank you for your help.” He puts his hands together. “It all happened so fast. One minute we were camped by some pleasant streams near a valley, and the next day, my parents were violently ill—shakes, fever, and worse. They were both dead before I could blink.”
“Your wagon was alone?” Pa’s eyes widen.
The young man nods. “We had others with us, but some split off to take the Santa Fe Trail, and others . . . didn’t make it. Trampled by their own wagons. Dysentery. My family was the last wagon left. And now there’s no way I’ll make it to Oregon City.”
You feel bad for him. You’re even more relieved that your entire wagon train has made it this far on the Trail.
You part ways with the stranger the next day and continue on through the Blue Mountains. You reach a narrow valley that dips down into a crystal-blue river. Trees line either side, but for the most part, the mountains are bare.
“Grande Ronde Valley.” Pa raises his spectacles. “Down there. We’re getting close to The Dalles.”
You’re grateful for a valley after all the rugged terrain you’ve crossed. You still have a lot of difficult land to cover.
Your family leads the wagon train into the valley, where you unhitch the oxen to let them graze on grass. King George and George Washington race to herd the livestock near the wagons. Trixie has to be nudged back to camp not once but twice before nightfall.
Your wagons corral for the night. Sitting around the campfire, you chew on rabbit Pa hunted earlier. You hear yaps and howls echoing in the hills.
“Coyotes.” Pa frowns. “They’re bold in these mountains.”
“We need to make sure we keep a close eye on the stock tonight,” Ma warns. “Mrs. Whittaker just told me they already lost one sheep they bought at Fort Boise to coyotes this afternoon. The Masons almost lost their cow. These coyotes are smart and fearless.” You pat Trixie’s soft nose. You need to make sure she’s well tied up for the night. If she wanders off, she’ll be coyote bait.
Howling and yapping surround your wagon corral the whole night. The noises get closer to your tent. You hear rustling in the trees and soft, padded feet scurrying about. Trixie lets out a low moo. Then you hear King George and George Washington let out deep growls.
The coyotes are trying to get to your animals!
You scramble out of your tent, blinking into the darkness. Pa’s gun is just inside the wagon. He’s shown you how to load it, although you’ve never actually fired a gun. Should you hurry to load it yourself or wake your parents instead?
If you load the gun yourself, turn to page 134
If you wake your parents, turn to page 150
Return to page 129
The oxen are exhausted, but staying put is asking for trouble. Those men were well armed. Nearly everyone in your wagon train knows how to hunt, but not how to fight.
Despite your aching feet and body screaming for rest, you encourage Pa to tell the rest of the wagon train to keep moving. You know that settling down and setting up a series of campfires could encourage the fur traders to return.
When Pa and Ma inform the others of your plan, several families stare at you in disbelief.
“Excuse me, Doctor, but are you mad?” Mr. Whittaker’s jaw drops. “We’ve been traveling all day. We can barely keep our own heads up, much less ask our oxen to keep going. They’ll die of sheer exhaustion in the next hour.”
“Those men have already moved on.” Mrs. Whittaker fixes her bonnet. “They said they were trappers. They weren’t interested in a wagon train. If they’d wanted to rob us, they could’ve done it right then and there, don’t you think?”
You don’t agree, but when the other families refuse to move on, Pa isn’t sure what to do.
“We really shouldn’t split up the wagon train,” he tries to persuade them. “It’s best if we stay together.”
Mr. Whittaker shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Doctor. We’re not moving.”
Pa looks at Ma.
“I don’t think we should stay,” she murmurs. “Who knows what those men might do if they return?”
“Ma’s right,” you say, terrified.
Pa finally agrees. “All right. We’ll keep moving and hope we reach Big Springs before it gets completely dark.”
You sadly wave goodbye to Annie and Matthew as your wagon rolls away into the early evening hours.
You’ve hardly gotten more than a mile when you hear a low laugh in the trees.
“Well, well, what have we here? Seems like someone’s a long way off from their wagon train, ain’t it?”
You hear the click of a gun.
It’s the fur trappers! They must have come back around to ambush any passing stragglers—like you.
Pa has to hand over all your money and any valuable supplies. None of you are hurt, but you have nothing left. Your dreams of opportunity in Oregon City have gone up in puffs of smoke.
THE END
Return to page 20
You think of your patchwork canvas and the rest of the damage the storm has done to your wagon train. You can’t risk getting caught in another storm.
“Maybe by the time the wagons are caulked, the river will have gone down,” you say hopefully.
“Hm
m.” Pa wipes his spectacles. “I’m just afraid of that river doing more damage than we can handle. But . . . if Mr. Mason is already in need of more supplies, it’s our duty as leaders to make sure he’s taken care of. We need to ensure everyone’s safety and well-being above all else.”
You nod. Everyone in the wagon train elected your family to be the captains—you can’t let people down.
“That settles it.” Pa turns back to Mr. Mason and Mr. Whittaker. “We’ll confirm with the other families, but if they agree, we’ll caulk the wagons carefully and ford the river as soon as everyone’s ready.”
Mr. Whittaker still doesn’t look too pleased with the idea. “Are you sure about this, Doctor?”
Pa nods reluctantly. “We need to make it to Big Springs as soon as possible.”
“Quite so, quite so.” Mr. Mason sighs with relief. “Thank you, Doctor.”
You all return to the wagon corral, where Pa gathers the other families to confer about the decision.
The other families aren’t on board with the idea. They will wait. You, the Masons, and the Whittakers will go on to cross the river now.
After caulking the wagons, you help Pa control the oxen and carefully wade across the river. At its deepest, the river is nearly above your head. The oxen rear and tug at their ropes in the raging current.
The ropes snap, and two of your oxen are carried away by the river. You let out a cry, but it’s useless. They’re gone.