Calamity in the Cold

by Jesse Wiley

  You and your Cherokee friends start off on the Oregon Trail. You wish you had a wagon train to support and protect you. Bandits run rampant in these parts, robbing unlucky pioneers. You’re also worried about getting lost. You’ve purchased a guidebook, but you have no idea how accurate it is.

  Only several days after you hit the Trail, you run into more bad weather. Freezing rain drenches your wagons, followed by thick, soupy fog. You wander the open prairie lands, never to be found again.

   THE END

  Return to page 97

  You can’t wait for the weather to get better. You’ve already spent a month trying to navigate around rocky terrain near the Great Falls. You abandon your wagons and carry what you can on your pack mule, Fred. After you spend an hour trudging along the riverbank, the merciless hail finally lets up. Soon, you come upon a spot where large boulders stick up over the river’s water line. It’s not ideal, but it’s the best chance at crossing you’ve seen thus far. One by one, your party minds the gaps between the large slippery stones and carefully gets across the river.

  You follow the Missouri River for a few days after the Great Falls, but you know that you have to part from the river and turn west to the mountains. You cut across to the Dearborn River and wind your way through the pass that Lewis used to cross the Continental Divide on his return journey to Saint Louis.

  Snow starts to fall at the higher elevations. Everyone struggles to stay warm during the cold nights.

  Finding food continues to be difficult. Pa goes hunting with Atsadi and Tsayoga. Sometimes they come back with a snake or a few skinny squirrels. Other times, you have to forage for nuts and berries.

  One afternoon, everyone stops to rest near a series of cascade rapids that empty into a crystal-clear lake, which is mostly frozen over. Johnny Travers, the banker’s son, wants to try ice fishing.

  But Wahya shakes his head. “The ice is not thick enough to hold our weight.”

  “Aw, c’mon!” Johnny claps his hands. “We haven’t had anything but nuts and berries for days now. I’m starving. Don’t you want to try?”

  Your stomach rumbles. You could go for a fresh piece of fish. But Wahya may be right about the ice. Should you forage for food, or try to go ice fishing?

  To go ice fishing, turn to page 72

  To forage for food, turn to page 96

  Return to page 109

  You look for a cave in the mountains. There should be a craggy nook you can all hunker down in for the night. The most important thing is to stay warm.

  After an hour of walking and stumbling, you find a small rocky nook embedded in a steep mountainside. Wahya’s ankle only gets worse. You and Inola hurry to find branches to make a fire. The three of you take turns sleeping and keeping the fire going.

  Come morning, the sun is already peeking over the snowy mountaintops. But when you crawl out of the nook, you see that a giant pine tree has fallen during the night. It’s blocking your path back to the valley—your exit route.

  You all slog through knee-deep snow. It feels impossible. You start to go downhill, and the sun peeks out from a cloud and warms your face. The snow grows wet and slushy.

  “We need to get off this mountain.” Inola looks up.

  “We’re almost there.” Wahya leans on a tree branch. “I can’t walk any faster.”

  But the second those words leave his mouth, you hear a whomp behind you.

  “Avalanche!”

  A wave of snow careens toward you at breakneck speed.

  You, Inola, and Wahya try to swim and stay above the wave, but the force is too brutal. Your journey West ends here.

   THE END

  Return to page 62

  “I don’t see how we can trade supplies for horses.” Ma puts her hands on her hips. “We can’t get to Oregon City with nothing.”

  You agree, but you’re disappointed. Crossing the Bitterroot Mountains on horses would be difficult enough. On foot, it will be twice as hard and probably take you twice as long. With nothing you’re willing to trade, your group heads for the mountains on foot. You still have your pack mule, Fred, but he can carry only so much.

  For the first several days, the terrain is fairly easy. You walk over sloping brown hills dotted with pine trees. Dash helps you catch geese and rabbits. The wind whistles through your tents at night and permeates your coat and blankets.

  Soon you reach the Bitterroot Mountains, consisting of steep slopes rising up one after another. Snow covers the ground, and the strong wind envelops your weary group. Your hands and feet can’t get warm. You and Emma take turns with Pa in leading Fred and holding little Jaime when Ma gets too tired.

  Game is scarce. Tsayoga and Atsadi come back with a deer, but it barely has any meat on its bones. Still, it’s better than nothing. With the meat, pilot bread, and coffee, it’s enough to keep your stomach from rumbling.

  As you wade into deeper snow on the mountain paths, it’s harder to find even small game like squirrels and rabbits. You resort to eating tree bark and digging for berries—even grass and leaves.

  “I can’t remember the last time we had chicken.” You rub your belly. Pilot bread has been the main course for the past week now.

  Emma licks her lips. “Or fresh, hot bread slathered in butter and jam.”

  “Pilot bread tastes like fresh cornbread to me.” Wahya smiles.

  Snowstorms delay your group for hours, sometimes days. Trudging through waist-deep snow is slow going; everyone carries heavy packs on their backs.

  Pa stumbles, and the supplies on his pack fall in the snow.

  “Maybe we should stop and build a fire?” You help Pa stand up and gather the scattered goods.

  But Pa shakes his head. “No. We have need to keep going. We still have to try to hunt before it gets dark. We’re running low on pilot bread.”

  You and Emma don’t like how much Pa is shivering—and his lips are blue. Should you forgo hunting to build a fire and get warm? Or should you hunt for food now as he suggests?

  To find food, turn to page 102

  To build a fire, turn to page 82

  Return to page 132

  You and Tsayoga convince Pa to take a break and rest for a while. You’re still miles away from Saint Louis, but you can tell that everyone has reached their limit. Pa falls asleep as soon as you set up camp. Oukonunaka and Tsula mix ginger root and honey in hot water for Pa’s worsening cough. After a good day’s rest, Pa already looks better.

  During the night, Emma has gotten a fever, along with severe chills.

  “Fix her something hot to drink.” Ma hands you the teakettle. “It will warm her up.”

  You hurry to find the bag of dried tea leaves and boil water over the fire. Atsadi sees you and hurries over.

  “No, don’t give that hot water to her.” He reaches for the kettle.

  “What? Why?” Your face screws up. “It’s supposed to be hot.”

  “It could kill her.” Atsadi places the kettle on a stump. “Giving her hot tea could only make things worse. It’s a temporary solution. It will warm only her throat, and she will be much colder once the tea has gone through her system. Let the hot water cool a bit.”

  You shake the bag of tea leaves. “I don’t entirely understand. I thought you gave hot tea to Pa and it helped him.”

  “We let it cool a bit first. If you give her ginger tea in warm water, that will warm her gradually. She won’t overheat. If she becomes warm too quickly by drinking hot tea, her body will respond by assuming she’s too hot. She will actually lose heat.”

  You’re not sure what to do. Emma urgently needs to warm up, and hot tea seems like the right choice, but Atsadi knows more about this than you do. Should you listen to him, or give her the hot tea?

  To give her the hot tea, turn to page 104

  To listen to Atsadi, turn to page 108

  Return to page 23

  You all stay put for the night. You’re hopelessly lost. It’s almost dark, and you need to save your energy.


  “We have to preserve heat, too.” Wahya rewraps a blanket around his body. “If we keep going, we’ll get too tired. I’ve heard it’s easy to die in your sleep in the cold.”

  The thought gives you chills. “Let’s find a way to get warm, and fast.”

  You help Inola bind Wahya’s ankle with a strip of cloth you tear from your shirt. It helps him walk a little easier, but he still needs to lean on you and Inola for support. You’ve gone farther from camp and ended up in a small wooded valley surrounded by tall, snowy mountain peaks on all sides.

  “I have no idea where we are.” You spin around in a circle. “How should we try to get warm? Should we build a lean-to underneath the trees?”

  Wahya nods to the jutting outline of cliffs through the trees. “Let’s look for caves.”

  “That’s too far away.” Inola tilts her head up. “Even if we do find a cave, there could be a wild animal inside.”

  “We could scare it off!” Wahya raises his hands. “The fire won’t keep us warm out here in the open. It will take us a long time to build a shelter, and it’s already dark. What do you think we should do?”

  To look for a cave, turn to page 55

  To spend the night under the trees, turn to page 91

  Return to page 93

  The wind picks up and it starts to snow. Your wagons have no coverage. You start off for Hopkinsville, but your Cherokee friends part ways to avoid the town.

  “The horses’ breath is starting to freeze over.” Pa holds on to his hat in the howling wind. He jumps out of the cart and tries to brush off the crusty ice building up on the horses’ nostrils.

  “We can’t keep going like this!” Ma adjusts Jaime’s blanket. “The baby can’t take this cold!”

  “Neither can we!” Emma wraps her arms around her body and huddles.

  “Let’s hope it stops soon.” Pa’s cheeks and nose are as red as a ripe tomato. He squints through the falling snow.

  You’ve barely made it a few miles. Pa has gotten so turned around, he has no idea where you are.

  There’s no shelter. You try to set up a tent in the middle of an icy storm, but it’s not made for this kind of weather. Heavy snow builds up, and your tent collapses. At this rate, you’ll never make it to the Oregon Trail.

   THE END

  Return to page 127

  You stay close to the campfire. It’s dark out there, and wild animals lurk around these parts. You get an idea and wake your loyal sheepdog, Dash.

  “Dash!” You pet his ears. He yawns and licks his chops. Then he sniffs your hand and jumps up, alert. You hold the end of Fred’s broken tether to Dash’s nose. “Go after him, Dash!”

  Dash drops his nose to the ground and bolts off into the woods. He’s a smart dog. He’ll be able to track Fred and herd him back in no time.

  You wait a moment.

  You hear rustling in the trees.

  A twig cracks, and your heart leaps.

  Dash starts barking wildly.

  “Dash?” You run to the edge of your campsite. “What’s wrong? Are you all right?” Panic floods through you.

  “What is it?” Tsayoga storms out of his tent. “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know.” You point into the woods. “Our mule ran off, but when I sent Dash after him, he started barking. He never barks like that.”

  Pa emerges from his own tent. “It could be a wild animal. Stay here—we’ll go check it out.”

  Together he and Tsayoga rush off into the darkness.

  You hear scuffling, followed by Dash’s sharp barks and the sound of angry shouts.

  Someone else is out there!

  Alarmed by the noises, the rest of your camp quickly wakes up. Baby Jaime starts crying, and Ma hurries to lull him back to sleep.

  “What’s going on?” Emma’s long red hair is disheveled.

  You hold up the broken tether and explain.

  Several minutes pass. Finally, Pa and Tsayoga return, Dash bounding at their heels and a sulky Fred clopping behind them.

  “What happened?” Tsula rushes to Tsayoga.

  “Bandits.” Tsayoga hugs Tsula. “They were circling our camp, looking to ambush us and take the livestock. If the dog hadn’t run after the mule and alerted us, it could’ve gone very bad.”

  “Good boy.” Inola pats Dash’s head. “Extra bacon for you tomorrow morning!”

  Dash licks her nose, and she giggles.

  At this point, everyone’s too wound up to go back to sleep. Atsadi stokes the fire to a hearty blaze. Emma hands out steaming cups of coffee. You’ll all be exhausted in the morning, but you can’t help but stay up. Tsula’s father, Oukonunaka, tells stories around the fire. Inola’s favorite tale features Jistu, the Trickster Rabbit, who stole fire to give to the people.

  * * *

  It’s been a month since you left your home in Jacksonville. Lately, the countryside has consisted of Tennessee’s rolling hills and winding creeks. Green buds pop out every now and then, but it’s slow to warm up. At night, you need all your blankets and your jacket. You’re surprised to find frost covering the ground in the mornings.

  You join Ma, Jaime, and Emma on a supply run in Nashville, and it’s the biggest town you’ve ever seen. Situated in the Nashville Basin on the Cumberland River, the town teems with life and chaos. This is the last big stop before you get to Saint Louis.

  You wander around the general store while Ma and Emma look at goods. Can you convince Ma to buy some candy? She’s already buying another sack of sugar so she can make pies and jam . . .

  Ma calls for you to come help her carry items back to the wagon. Emma holds baby Jaime while Ma deals with the store clerk.

  “You folks look like you’re on a journey.” The clerk counts the money Ma hands him.

  “We’re going on the Oregon Trail!” You jump up and down, excited.

  The clerk raises an eyebrow. “Well, how ’bout that? Some brave folks, you are. Heard it’s going to be a mighty bad year for travelin’. Plain ol’ cold.”

  Ma lifts a bag of flour off the counter. “What do you mean?”

  “Haven’t you heard, ma’am? Some strange weather’s comin’ this way. Chilly for this time of year.”

  Ma sets the bag of flour back on the counter. “We have noticed. We were planning on restocking up on flour and sugar, but . . . maybe we should consider new clothes or blankets.” She touches a thick blanket nearby.

  “I’d suggest that, ma’am.” The clerk slams his cash drawer shut. “You can always hunt for food, but nights are still on the frosty side.”

  Ma turns to you and Emma. “What do you think? We can afford only one or the other. Blankets and clothes are expensive, but we need to stay warm. But we also need food. Hunting game isn’t always a guarantee—animals can be scarce.”

  You’re not sure which to choose. What do you decide?

  To restock on food, turn to page 127

  To buy new blankets, turn to page 137

  Return to page 112

  Fish sounds like a nice change from the stale bread you’ve been gnawing on.

  “We can at least try.” You wrap your hands around your stomach. “I’m so hungry. We can make some fishing poles out of rope and branches.”

  “The lake isn’t even that big.” Johnny stomps on a frozen puddle and cracks the ice. “If we do need to get back to shore, it’s not far.”

  “Let’s check the ice first.” Wahya starts off toward the water.

  You check the ice. It’s just about three inches thick. Wahya has recommended that it should be at least four inches for it to be safe to walk on. It’s close enough, you think.

  “I’ll fish with you, but the first sign or sound of a crack, and I’m running for it.” Wahya shakes his head. “I want to fish—not to be fished out of freezing water.”

  After constructing the fishing poles, you step out onto the ice behind Johnny. You shuffle into the middle of the lake and wave for Wahya to follow you.

  “I sti
ll don’t think this is a good idea.” Wahya shuffles and slides out onto the ice. “I’ll come just in case I have to save you.”

  The three of you crowd around one hole carved into the ice. You drop in your fishing lines and wait.

  CRACK!!

  Johnny falls through the ice. “Help!”

  You carefully slide toward the hole.

  “No, don’t!” Wahya waves his hands. “He could end up pulling you under! Throw him the rope—he can pull himself up!”

  You panic as Wahya inches toward you. You’re not sure what to do, but you need to decide fast. Should you throw him a rope, or try to grab him yourself?

  To get him yourself, turn to page 79

  To throw him a line, turn to page 28

  Return to page 52

  Your covered wagons—and fatigued animals—won’t hold up much longer without protection from the extreme weather. You’ve been wandering around for too long. You need to head for the mountains to find shelter among the trees and kindling for fire.