by Jesse Wiley
THE END
Return to page 62
You’ve already delayed in Fort Hall long enough. You and your family start off for California right away. You’ve stocked up on food and additional supplies. It makes no sense to backtrack to Salt Lake City.
You’ve asked around and have settled on traveling to Sacramento, where Pa hopes to open his own practice. The journey won’t be easy. Heading south means that you’ll be going through mostly desert terrain. Instead of preparing for the snowstorms and frostbite you’d face in Blue Mountain territory, your struggle on the California Trail will be mainly finding sources of water and game to hunt.
The Whittakers and the O’Neils insist on stopping in Salt Lake City. You scratch King George’s head as you listen to Pa and Ma argue with the other families, but it’s no use. The others split off to form their own wagon train.
You’re alone on the California Trail.
Pa sighs. “We might have just made a mistake.”
“It’s too late to worry about that now,” Ma tugs the wagon reins.
Soon, you see nothing but craggy hills, low brush, and white sand. There are no trees in sight. No animals aside from the occasional lizard or snake slithering through the underbrush.
But, most important, you travel miles without seeing one critical resource: water.
You stop to check the map, but you realize that you forgot to purchase one of the California Trail. The map you have is useless.
You keep moving, but soon your water reserves run dry. The oxen bray, barely slogging through the hot sun. Your mouth feels like it’s stuffed with cotton. Your shoes are filled with pebbles and sand.
You think you see water ahead, but it’s always just out of your reach.
THE END
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You and your parents agree that while you’d hoped to make it to California, Salt Lake City is a fine place to settle down. Plus, Pa has already begun to establish a reputation as a great local physician.
“It’d be foolish to keep going when we’ve already begun to start something here.” Pa squeezes your hand.
“I’d rather not have to travel all those miles through the desert.” Ma smiles at you, relieved.
“I don’t know,” you joke, “sounds like fun to me.”
You all laugh. But soon you find that your wagon train is upset that you’ve stayed so long. Mr. Whittaker tells your pa that they’re going on with or without you.
“Looks like we’re going to have to say goodbye to the rest of our wagon train.” Pa sighs. “Unless they want to settle down here with us.”
But the remaining two families choose to keep going to California. They leave soon after. You catch word from passersby that there was a severe drought and the Whittaker wagon train didn’t make it. You knew that splitting up was never a good idea.
THE END
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We should ask a local trail guide,” you suggest. You’ve made it this far, after all. And who knows if the Santa Fe Trail is any safer?
Pa nods. “I agree. I can’t let the practice in Oregon City down, not when I’ve already agreed to join.”
Mrs. Whittaker hesitates. “Well . . . if you think it best, Dr. Howard, we’ll wait to hear what this guide says.”
“Good choice, Mrs. Whittaker,” says Ma. “Splitting up the wagon train is not a great idea. We’re safer if we stay together.”
You and Pa venture off to find a trail guide amid the other wagon trains gathered in the area. There are so many families traveling along the Oregon Trail! Some wagons are overstuffed with items—so full they look like they might burst. You recall what someone in Independence told Pa and Ma: not to overfill your wagon with valuables, because you’d probably end up tossing most of them away, anyway. Many pioneers shipped valuable items around South America and up past California to Oregon City. Your family had to ship your ma’s precious grand piano in a huge boat, hoping it will meet you there.
Finally, you come across a man named Captain Carter. He tells you that there is a concern for sickness ahead.
“I’d take a different route.” Carter chews on a blade of grass. “Cross at the Wakarusa River and head on up to Big Springs, past Mount Oread. Some folk avoid the Wakarusa crossing, as there’s no ferry yet, but take it slow, and the going might lower yer chances of running into trouble with the sickness. And make sure yer food is cooked, and yer water fully boiled ’fore you drink.”
“Of course. Thank you.” Pa shakes the captain’s hand before you head back to your own wagon train.
The morning sun blazes in the sky as you start off toward the Wakarusa River Crossing. Ma and Pa take turns sitting in the driver’s seat, holding the reins of your team of oxen, while you walk alongside. Your wagon is too full for you to sit, unfortunately. But it’s such a nice day that you don’t mind walking. King George and George Washington bound beside the oxen, chasing after prairie dogs and jackrabbits that scurry across the plains. Soon, you’ve been walking for hours. Ma and Pa start humming a pleasant song, and Pa tosses you a piece of dried jerky to chew on.
“I wish we had a dog!”
You turn to see Annie Whittaker trotting up beside your wagon on their horse. She’s got a big straw hat on to block out the late-afternoon sun. You haven’t spent much time with the other children in the wagon train, but you’re excited to make new friends.
“I wish we had a horse.” You kick some dirt. “All we have is a wandering cow named Trixie.”
Annie grins. “We’ve had to corral her back in once or twice already, haven’t we?”
You both laugh. Annie’s brother Matthew comes running up to join in on the conversation. George Washington barks and leaps over to him, covering him with licks.
“Careful, or you’ll drown in their drool.” You smile and pull your dog down.
Matthew laughs and pets George Washington’s head. “Hey, look!” He points past you. “The Wakarusa River!”
You turn and see a thick grove of trees that dip down sharply among patches of limestone rock. Then, you hear the sound of rushing water.
“Let’s go see it!” Matthew races off.
You start after Matthew and Annie, but Pa’s voice stops you in your tracks.
“Wait! We’re stopping here to unhitch the oxen to let them feed before crossing. Don’t run off—you’ll make them nervous.”
But Annie and Matthew are already bounding away down toward the river. You want to prove that you’re just as brave and adventurous as they are. Should you follow them?
If you wait until Pa has unhitched the oxen, turn to page 155
If you run after Annie and Matthew, turn to page 43
Return to page 11
I’m so hungry.” You stare longingly at the general store in Big Springs’ town square. Your mouth waters at the thought of biscuits and gravy and fresh jelly cake. But you lost most of your money in the river. You had eight hundred dollars leaving Independence. Now you have only two hundred.
“We’ll have to sell off two of our oxen to get more food and winter supplies,” says Pa grimly. “We can still make it with the two remaining oxen, but we’ll need to save as much money as possible. We don’t have much to trade.”
You glance back at your damaged wagon and see Mr. Whittaker storming over to your family. Behind him, Annie and Matthew watch sadly from afar. They lost their beloved horse trying to climb Devil’s Backbone.
“This is all your fault,” Mr. Whittaker snaps at Pa. “We should never have trusted you as our leader. We’ve lost nearly everything. It was our dream to get to Oregon City. Now we’ll have to go back to Independence until we can find a way to pay for the damage your leadership caused.”
Before anyone can respond, he stalks away.
Pa sells off two more oxen and your dairy cow, Trixie, to get a few hundred more pounds of food and several new sets of clothing, including a new pair of shoes for you. Now you have only two oxen left.
After you’ve rested for tw
o days in Big Springs, your family continues on alone. Both the Whittakers and the Masons have gone back to Independence. But with only a third of your original oxen team still intact, your daily pace is a slow crawl.
One night, only a few days after you’ve left Big Springs, you notice one of the oxen lying down.
Pa looks him over, but the animal won’t get up. “He’s sick. We need to rest until he’s better.”
The next day, the ox dies. Soon after, your last ox gets the same illness. Your dreams of trailblazing to Oregon City end here.
THE END
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He’s been through enough, Pa,” you say. “Let’s help him get back to the fort.”
“I’m sure the others will understand.” Ma looks at Pa. “We’ll lose time, but it’s the right thing to do.”
Pa scratches his beard. “Very well, we’ll lead him back.” He goes over to tell the young man that you will help him out.
“What’s going on?” Annie and Matthew come up beside you. She’s riding their horse today, with Matthew looking especially glum about it.
“We’re going to help that man get back to Fort Boise.”
She grimaces. “Pa and Ma won’t like that.”
The Whittakers aren’t pleased with the idea of traveling all the way back in the opposite direction. The Masons aren’t either.
Mr. Whittaker steps onto your camp. “Someone at the fort was telling us that the snowstorms are going to get very bad this time of year. I don’t think we should tarry here, much less backtrack to Fort Boise.”
Pa just shakes his head. “I’m a doctor, Mr. Whittaker. I have to do what I know to be right. In this case, it’s helping this young man.”
“Let’s simply help him bury his family, provide him with a map, and keep moving.” Mr. Whittaker puts his hands together. “Please, Doctor. We don’t have time or resources.”
Pa and Mr. Whittaker argue for several minutes before Mr. Whittaker storms off. Pa sighs. He tries to enlist the help of the other men to dig graves before you return to Fort Boise. No one is happy with the idea of turning around. Everyone is also petrified of contracting the deadly cholera.
While the men dig graves and bury the bodies, they tell Pa that they want to keep moving on the Trail.
“We’ll continue on the Trail. You can catch up to us, Doc.” Mr. O’Neil leans on his shovel.
But your parents don’t like this plan, and neither do you. The wagon train is safer traveling together.
Alarm fills your camp when the young man you’re helping doubles over in the grass. Ma and Pa rush to help him. He is shivering and burning up with a fever.
“He has cholera too.” Pa touches his forehead. “Everyone stay back.”
“We’ll do more than that.” Mrs. Mason and her husband don’t wait for the rest of the wagon train—they leave within the next several minutes. You see the second of their two wagons trailing off into the distant mountains.
The other families stay for the time being but hover in a corral some yards away. You and Ma help Pa to bring the young man blankets and water, but you’re afraid it might be too late.
“What if we hurry him back to the fort, Pa?” you suggest. “Before he gets worse? Maybe you can treat him better there?”
Pa nods thoughtfully, his brow creased with worry. “Good idea, but on the other hand, it might be too late by then. We don’t want to risk it.”
Ma clasps his shoulder. “It could save his life if you’re better equipped at the fort.”
Pa glances at you. “What do you think?”
Either option presents a risk. What do you decide?
If you want to try to rush him to Fort Boise, turn to page 147
If you want to treat him where you are, turn to page 66
Return to page 129
You know you shouldn’t ignore Pa. It’ll be dark soon, and the oxen need to be unhitched. The wind is getting stronger, and you can already see clouds covering the horizon. But you don’t want Matthew and Annie to think that you’re afraid of adventure and the unknown. You bite your lip and continue to run after them.
“No, wait!” Ma points to the sky. “It’s not safe!”
You’re confident you’ll be okay. You’ve been on the Trail for a few days, and you’re getting the hang of everything. You’ll be back to help with the evening chores soon.
“I’ll be all right, Ma!” You wave.
Thunder rumbles overhead. Pa and Ma are both shouting, but you can barely hear them.
You turn just in time to see all six oxen barreling toward you. The storm has them shook. One of them knocks you to the ground. Crunch! You let out a cry. Shocking pain sears down your leg. A one-thousand pound ox has trampled your foot as the oxen run toward the river.
You’re hardly conscious as Ma and Pa carry you back to the wagon. You finally wake hours, maybe days, later, to find your entire leg in a sturdy splint.
“It’s no use.” Pa holds your hand. “Even though I set the leg as best I can, it’ll take weeks, maybe even months, to heal. We’ll have to head back to Independence.”
All your dreams of adventure and opportunity on the Oregon Trail will have to wait until next year.
THE END
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We can trap small animals, Pa,” you say. “I’m sure there are deer around here too. We’v got enough ammunition to hunt. We can find something to last until our next supply stop.”
“We still have a decent amount of flour left, too.” Ma holds up a sack. “We should try to make the best of it here for a few days until we can take on the Columbia River.”
Mr. Mason glowers. “Maybe we’ll split up. We can afford the tollgate.”
Pa shakes his head. “I wouldn’t recommend splitting up, Mr. Mason. Not at this point. We’re better off if we stay together. The Barlow Road can get very tricky, from what I’ve heard. It’s not easy terrain.”
“The doctor’s right.” Mrs. Mason looks at her husband. “Let’s stay with the wagon train.”
After a minute’s deliberation, Mr. Mason reluctantly agrees to remain with your wagon train. The Joneses choose to stay too. It would be foolish to go off on their own.
You’re glad that everyone is sticking together. Taking the Barlow Toll Road would have been a mistake. Your family doesn’t have much money left, and Pa will need new medical equipment for his new practice.
You hunt for the next two days and manage to trap several rabbits, which Ma turns into delicious stews. Pa makes a better splint for Mr. O’Neil’s arm. Finally, your group continues on. You wander higher into the Blue Mountains. The bitter wind rushes through your bones. You bury your nose in a thick blanket, huddling between Annie and Matthew. Every part of you aches. Will you ever make it to Oregon City?
You travel around winding hills toward the Columbia River. Then, your wagon train stops atop a ridge. A spectacular vista spreads out before you: the Columbia River Gorge. In the distant horizon to the west, you see the faint blue peak of Mount Hood rising above the other mountains.
It’s one of the most incredible sights you’ve seen. You’ve wandered through prairies and deserts, forded rivers, and now climbed mountains. Your goal of reaching Oregon is so close—and it’s even more beautiful than you could’ve imagined. Your long journey is almost at its end, but not quite.
Your wagon train descends the slope to The Dalles, which is long but thankfully not steep. The Columbia River has lowered in the past few days. You can tell from the banks of white sand by the river. As you reach the riverbank, you are struck by its enormity.
“Even if we build rafts, I’m not sure we can navigate that river.” Pa stares across the rushing blue water.
“Back at Fort Boise, I heard there are guides you can pay to help you.” Ma places her hands on Pa’s back. “Maybe we could try to find someone?”
You’re not sure if you can afford to hire a guide at this point. Plus, you know that taking the Barlow Road around Mount Hood w
ill cost even more. No one in your wagon train knows how to navigate the powerful Columbia River. What should you do?
If you pay someone to help navigate the river, turn to page 95
If you try to navigate the river yourself, turn to page 126
Return to page 150
You think about waiting, but when you and the Whittakers come across a pair of familiar wagons abandoned by the riverbank, you know they have already gone ahead without you. Everyone is hungry, tired, and grumpy from the weeks wasted going to and from the Barlow Road.
“We’ve already waited long enough.” Mrs. Whittaker cradles William in her arms. “If we keep waiting, the weather might become worse than it already is.”
You and your parents agree. You help Pa and Mr. Whittaker build a raft for both your families. You, Annie, and Matthew will help Ma and Mrs. Whittaker steer the raft downriver, while Pa and Mr. Whittaker will drive the livestock alongside the riverbank.
As you place the last of your supplies onto the raft, you notice the clouds darkening overhead. Thunder rumbles nearby, and the rushing river darkens.
“Maybe this isn’t a good idea.” Annie shivers.
You shrug helplessly. She might be right, but it’s too late now.
You leave your wagons behind and start off down the river as raindrops fall from the sky. You use long, heavy sticks to try to control your raft, but even with several people pushing and nudging at the riverbed, you’re no match for the undercurrent. Your raft gains speed, dipping into a bed of rapids, and slams into a sharp rock jutting out of the water.
