by Jesse Wiley
A twig cracks nearby; you freeze as something moves. A hulking shadow draws closer and you’re relieved to find that it’s an enormous elk. Elk meat would be delicious and last you a while. Your last few meals have only been berries.
You have your small knife, but it’s hardly something that would take down an enormous elk. You’ll need to fashion yourself some traps, if not a bow and arrow. You could also make a slingshot out of the flexible bark of a young tree, your string, and a stone.
You look over and the elk is staring at you. It snorts and tosses its antlers. You hope it won’t charge at you. You maintain eye contact and take a slow step back.
A snarl from the bushes is your only warning before several gray-and-black furry beings fly out of the trees and descend upon the elk. You’re frozen in fear: a pack of wolves!
The elk lets out a shrill shriek and takes off into the forest. Several wolves bound off after it, howling and yapping all the way. Just when you think you’re safe, you hear a low growl behind you. You slowly turn to see three toothy wolves only feet away, ready to pounce.
Should you stand your ground and face the wolves down, or run?
To stand your ground, turn to page 85
To run, turn to page 29
Return to page 76
You tell Tatsa you’re injured.
“I don’t think I should keep walking, Tatsa.” You lift up your legging to reveal your swollen, angry red scratch.
She drops her pack and hurries up to you. “This does not look good.”
“What do we do?”
“Clean it out as best we can.” She pours water onto your wound. You cry out from the pain and double over. She wraps your calf in a bandage.
“You don’t look well at all.” Tatsa looks at you.
“I’ll be fine.” After a moment, you stand up again. You cringe and try to ignore the pain. Exhaustion and dizziness hang over you.
“We will stop here to camp, then,” Tatsa says. “Until you’re well again.”
You only hope that you will be well again.
As Tatsa starts a campfire and finds sticks to build a lean-to for the night, you hear a man’s voice. You both look up to see several Native American men approaching. Tatsa speaks to them in Shoshone, but they shake their heads, not understanding. She tries words in another indigenous dialect, one you don’t recognize.
After some difficult communication, Tatsa relaxes her stance and nods to you.
“These are men of the Tenino People.” She introduces you to Yáka, Tl’álk and Nawinalá. “They know you are ill and want to help. Their village is nearby, equipped with food and medicine. I think we should go with them.”
You nod weakly. Help would be more than welcome, considering the way you’re feeling. Your leg is burning up.
Yáka carries you to their nearby village, next to a stream. Tatsa murmurs to you that they are a fishing tribe who travel up and down the Columbia River and split their time between winter and summer dwellings.
The kind people lay you down in one of their huts and cover you with a thin blanket. An elderly woman wipes your sweaty neck and forehead and covers your wound with clean bandages every few hours. Pain still lingers, but it has dulled.
A week passes. You think sometimes that you’ll never feel well again, but in the second week at camp, you start to improve. One afternoon, you see a familiar wagon train rolling by—it’s Smith’s. They stop to trade with Yáka, Tl’álk, and Nawinalá, and when the wagon train sees you, they’re astonished. They offer again to bring you and Tatsa with them to Oregon City. But you know Tatsa won’t want to go with them. You also know you may need more rest and should stay with Tatsa.
Should you join Smith’s wagon train, or stay and rest with Tatsa?
To join Smith’s wagon train, turn to page 94
To rest, turn to page 81
Return to page 51
You and Tatsa dash to climb the nearest tree. It’s a split-second decision. You know that you can’t outrun an avalanche. You pick up Snap with one arm and toss him onto the branch above you. Just as you swing up beside Tatsa, the snow slides inches beneath your feet. The tree shudders and shakes. You hold on for dear life—and hope the trunk can withstand the enormous amount of force. Within minutes, the snow stops moving.
You both reluctantly jump down into the snow. Snap buries his nose in the fresh powder and shakes himself off.
You let out a sigh. “That was close.”
“Too close.” Tatsa pats the bark, and to your surprise, peels off a piece. Then another piece.
“What are you doing?”
She rips off a thick strand of bark and stuffs it in her mouth. “I’m hungry.” Tatsa holds a strip out to you. “Try it.”
The idea of eating tough, scratchy tree bark isn’t appealing, but you take the strip from her. It’s not bad. Not great, but still edible—and chewy like jerky. You wish you’d known this earlier.
After hours of traveling down the mountain, the temperature gradually rises and you see deep wagon wheel ruts cover the ground where the snow is melting. Looking ahead, you see a swarm of travelers. You check your map: Barlow Tollgate. You scan the crowd for your parents. No luck. You and Tatsa take advantage of the hustle and bustle, careful to stay out of the distracted tollgate operator’s sight.
After about an hour of traveling, you set up camp in a nook surrounded by trees, hunt for and gather food, and then rest for the night as dark falls.
* * *
In the morning, you continue on to Laurel Hill. You and Tatsa avoid the main Trail and keep to the thick cover of trees. Traveling in plain sight feels more dangerous.
Finally you reach the bottom of the steep incline and find yourselves in a warmer, pleasant valley surrounded by thick, lush trees. Just ahead, you spot glistening water: a small pond. You are both hot and sweaty after the climb down Laurel Hill. You and Tatsa hurry toward it, eager to wash your faces. You even want to go swimming.
The water is muddy and stagnant. It smells strange, too. Should you jump into this pond, or find another water source?
To jump into the pond, turn to page 51
To find another water source, turn to page 67
Return to page 36
Building a fire is the most important thing to do right now. It’s getting dark very quickly and there’s no immediate way to track your wagon train down.
The temperature is dropping and you need to light a fire to keep yourself warm. It will also ward off any predators. You shiver at the thought of what lurks in these hills—burly bears, slinking wildcats, white-fanged wolves, poisonous snakes, and gigantic moose.
The storm is passing. Staying in the camp clearing without a wagon corral for protection is not a good idea. You move to higher ground.
You weave your way back up into the craggy hills until you find yourself in a small gulley surrounded by tall trees and rocks. You settle into a nook in between several thick pines. You brush aside wet leaves and damp twigs to get to the dirt beneath and place several stones in a small circle.
As you begin hunting for dry twigs to use as tinder, you realize that making a fire will be more difficult than you imagined. You’ve never actually started a fire before—not on your own, anyway. Mama or Pa always helped get the spark going.
You pat one of your pockets. Your matches are still there! You thought they’d be floating at the bottom of the river with the catfish. Digging into your pocket, you feel your small knife. This will be very helpful in the future.
With the land and trees still damp from the heavy storm, it takes you a long time to find partially dry kindling. When you finally have a small bundle in your arms, you set it down in the middle of your rocky nook.
Your stomach grumbles. You crave the fatty bacon, dried meat, and coffee from your family’s wagon. You can already hear Mama laughing at Pa’s silly jokes, and Snap barking after a nearby jackrabbit. At this point, you’d even be happy to see your aimless wagon train captain, Buck.
&
nbsp; You pull out your matchbox and stare down in horror. It popped open while you were carried away by the river. The few matches you have left are soaked through, except for one partially dry match. You’ll have to find another way to make a fire—and you’ve never made one with steel and flint before. You can use your small knife as steel. But you can’t find any flint stone.
You keep the wet matches just in case. Maybe you can use them once they dry out.
Then, you remember a trick one of the wagon train folks used when they had trouble getting the campfire started with wet tinder. You rush over to a small grove of pine trees and take out your knife. You notch a hole until, slowly but surely, you see resin—a thick sap—seeping out. It’s highly flammable. This trick is perfect for a time like this.
In your circle of stones, you’ve laid out the only dry moss you could find and small kindling wood. You coat the end of a long stick in the resin and try your luck on the driest match you have. When you strike the match, the spark ignites the resin and it flares to life. You set it among the twigs and gently blow to help start a flame while you add larger sticks. In a few minutes, you’ve got a small but steady fire going. Relieved, you start to warm from the heat.
Your stomach’s growl interrupts your brief moment of peace. It’s been at least a few days since you ate anything. Should you go look for food nearby or construct a shelter for the night?
To make a shelter, turn to page 76
To find food, turn to page 44
Return to page 18
You keep your distance. You can’t be too careful. “I’ll get help up ahead!”
After traveling on horseback for a few days, taking shelter in the trees at night, you finally arrive in Oregon City. You feel a mix of relief and melancholy. You should have come into the city with your parents. What if they’re not here? What if all of your hopes have been for nothing?
You remember the sick family and head straight for a doctor. The doctor shakes his head but grabs his medical bag all the same, hurrying for his horse.
“Measles.” He mounts his horse. “A deadly sickness that’s plagued a number of people here in the area. You were right to stay far away—it’s highly contagious. You would have contracted it if you’d gotten too close. Thank you for telling me.”
The doctor rushes off—you’re glad you could help.
As you walk with Snap and your horse through the hustle and bustle of the city, you ponder the impossibility of tracking down your parents.
You’re about to head into the general store to buy a bite to eat. Then you hear a familiar voice.
You turn and force yourself to blink—you can’t believe your own eyes. “Mama? Pa?”
Your parents whirl around and rush toward you, with tears in their eyes. Snap wags his tail and bounds with joy.
“You’re alive!” Mama sobs. “How is this possible? How are you here?”
“We kept searching for you.” Pa wipes his eyes. “We looked up and down the river, during the storm. After a week, we couldn’t find you. Buck pressed us hard. We had to go on. I’ve regretted the decision ever since—until today.”
Mama wipes her eyes and shakes her head. “We were so frightened.”
“Buck just wouldn’t listen.” Pa puts his hands on his hips. “He told us that if we wanted to stay behind any longer, we’d be jeopardizing the others. We’d have to stay behind on our own. No wagons. No food . . .”
“We shouldn’t have trusted that old fool!” Ma steps in.
You realize that you were both scrambling to find one another in the vast mountain country. Remorse fills your heart, but as you think of everything you’ve experienced over the past few months with Tatsa, you don’t regret anything at all.
You hug them both tightly. “It’s all right, Mama, Pa. I’m all right. See? Snap and I took care of each other. We made it!”
Mama kisses Snap on the nose and scratches his ears. “You good boy, you! You protected our child.”
“And . . . I wasn’t alone, Mama. Not entirely.”
“You found another wagon train?” Pa tilts his head.
“Not exactly. I had a friend, Tatsa. The best friend in the world. She saved my life more than once. She’s the reason I’m here.”
“Where is your friend now?” Mama asks gently.
You smile. “Tatsa is back with her family at a trading post not far from here. She told me that I’d find you again. And she was right.”
Mama hugs you once more. “Well, now that we have you back with us, we’ll get settled in and build our house. I’d like to go visit Tatsa and her family, to thank them.”
“First.” You grin. “I’d really love a piece of apple pie, Mama.”
“First.” Mama grins back. “You’re going to need a bath!”
You all laugh. Relief sweeps through you. You can’t wait to help Mama and Pa build your new house in Oregon City. And you can’t wait to tell them all about your adventures with Tatsa out in the wild.
THE END
Return to page 105
Guide
to the Trail
It’s 1849, and you are making a historic journey West as one of 400,000 adventurous and daring pioneers. You have walked with your wagon train for about 1,000 miles (1,600 kilometers) along the Oregon Trail. You’ll have to rely on your survival skills, make friends, and trust your judgment to make it the rest of the way to Oregon City. You will scavenge for food, learn how to make a shelter, and avoid deadly animals. Danger and adventure await you on the Oregon Trail, pioneer!
Dangers!
SICKNESS
Cholera, dysentery, and even measles are deadly diseases on the Trail. Dysentery and cholera can come from drinking unclean water or eating uncooked or rotten food. Make sure your food is fresh, and cook it thoroughly. Boil drinking water. Check to make sure your water source is running clean, free of mud and grime. If you come across sick pioneers, keep your distance and try to get help from a doctor.
BAD WEATHER
Be prepared. You will be passing through many different climates. Sudden hailstorms, avalanches, thunderstorms, and bad weather can be fatal. Take shelter in a secure, sturdy location during storms. Make a shelter to protect yourself.
STARVATION
The wilderness is full of natural food sources if you know where to look. Be sure to watch surrounding animals to see what berries and plants they feed from: that’s a sign they’re probably safe for humans to eat, too. Flowers such as dandelions and rock cress are wonderful snacks in a pinch, and even cattails can be eaten.
FROSTBITE
If you experience frostbite, make sure to wrap the affected area in loose bandages. Do not expose to direct heat, such as fire, which can result in burns and infection. Warm up the damaged skin gradually so as not to cause shock to your system. Do not massage or rub. Be sure to get help if you can.
DEHYDRATION
If you’re lost in the wilderness, one of the most important things is to find clean water. Set up shelter near a water source each night. If you find a stream or brook, check to see if other animals or people are also drinking from it. If the water looks or smells odd, it may be contaminated. Avoid desert-like areas where water is scarce.
SHELTER
Finding shelter is the most important thing you can do when facing nightfall in the wilderness. You need it for protection and for warmth, and to keep your campfire from blowing out. Build a lean-to by collecting large sticks and lining them up against a sturdy tree. Food, even water, can come later.
ANIMALS
Predators such as wolves can hurt or kill you. Be cautious approaching strange sounds. If you run into a pack of wolves, make yourself big and face them down—do not run away. Don’t show your fear. Be careful of mother animals protecting their babies—animals who sense a threat will attack. Always stay alert and be aware of your surroundings.
Finding Your Way
Try and secure a map. Without one, you have nothing to guide you over the Continental Divide
to Oregon City. You don’t have a compass—only the sun and stars. Ask for guidance whenever you can. Make wise choices about whom to trust, and stick with experienced travelers. Often indigenous Nations, such as the Shoshone, can provide helpful advice.
Look for landmarks listed here in the Trail Guide.
AGAIDIKA SHOSHONE VILLAGE (LEMHI VALLEY)
This pleasant valley surrounded by the Bitterroot Mountains is home to the Agaidika Shoshone, a nomadic Native American Nation who fish from the nearby Salmon River.
THREE CROSSING ISLAND
This is a crossing along Snake River. Stay to the north of the river, as the south can lead you into the desert and the Bruneau Dunes, where water is scarce.
MOUNT HOOD