Calamity in the Cold

by Jesse Wiley

“My brother and I have already had to give up most of our carpentry tools to cross the Bitterroot Mountains,” Charlie says, loosening his collar. “What if our canoes tip in the Columbia? What if we’re hit by a block of ice?”

  “We’re not saying it won’t be risky.” Pa shifts his weight. “But to wait another year? Are you out of your mind? We also can’t all stay with the Whitmans for a whole year.”

  Charlie bites his lip.

  “I am not waiting.” Tsayoga puts his foot down. “My family and I will press on. We will get to Oregon City before winter.”

  “Hasn’t it been winter for months now?” Wahya mutters in your ear.

  You smirk. He has a point.

  “Let’s take the river now,” Henry Clay insists, pounding the table with his fist. “Before it gets even colder. It’s almost winter. Let’s get to Oregon City, Charlie.”

  Charlie reluctantly gives in to his brother. After the Whitmans generously provide you with new blankets, clothing, and food, you thank them and leave the mission to reach the Columbia River. You’re especially excited about your new pair of buckskin shoes lined with fur. Your feet are finally warm and dry, even when trudging through snow.

  You sell your horses to a nearby Umatilla village in exchange for sturdy canoes. You sadly have to trade Fred. At least you still have your dog, Dash.

  Navigating the Columbia River by canoe is terrifying. The second you step into the long wooden boat, you’re afraid it will capsize in the freezing water.

  You, Pa, and Emma take turns paddling, while Ma holds Jaime tightly in her arms. He’s gotten so much bigger over the last several months. He’s constantly squirming, trying to crawl and see over the side of the boat. You and Emma play peekaboo with him when you’re not rowing.

  As you feared, you row past chunks of ice, which eventually turn to very large bergs that are impossible to boat by. You have to stop and set up camp.

  In the morning, you find that the canoes have frozen into the river. You have to hack away the ice before you can keep going. This is exhausting.

  During your travels on and off the river, you, Inola, and Wahya play games to keep yourselves occupied. You try to see who can spot the biggest chunks of ice, who can make the best animal calls, and whose canoe is faster. This third game doesn’t last long, however.

  Atsadi puts a stop to your shenanigans. “You’re going to knock our canoes into each other. Or into someone else’s. You need to be careful.”

  Inola frowns.

  “He’s right.” Emma shudders. “The last thing any of us wants is to wind up in that frozen river.”

  For once, you don’t argue with her; instead, you and Wahya take turns making silly faces at each other. Little Jaime giggles at your antics.

  Soon, you come to a point in the river where you have to portage your canoes, or carry them along the banks. The rapids and waterfalls of the Cascades are too dangerous, and hauling the boats past the rapids over slippery rocks is the only option. It’s grueling work. Your fingers hurt and your shoulders ache from helping Pa and Emma carry your heavy boat for hours.

  When you finally make it past the Cascades, your group sets your canoes down on the riverbank. You’re so tired, you can barely stand, but being so close to Oregon City sparks hope in you.

  Some want to keep going, while others want to stop at Fort Vancouver to rest. Your family doesn’t look good. In fact, Ma’s been coughing for the past few hours. Should you rest at Fort Vancouver nearby, or continue on to Oregon City?

  To go past Fort Vancouver, turn to page 84

  To stop at Fort Vancouver, turn to page 142

  Return to page 29

  You head back to camp. You didn’t wander off too far—or did you?

  If only you knew which direction you came from. After Wahya’s fall off the ledge, you’re turned around. It’s also so dark that you can barely see one another.

  “If the moon was out, it’d be easier to see.” Inola looks up at the sky.

  Snowflakes start to fall. You lick your chapped lips. “Let’s just turn around and go that way.” You strain to see the dark cliffs behind you. “We can make it back up. If it’s the wrong way, at least we’ll get a better vantage point.”

  “How am I supposed to get up there?” Wahya holds on to his ankle. “I can’t even walk, much less climb.”

  You and Inola bind his injured ankle to a branch with strips of cloth torn from your shirt. The splint helps, but it lasts only a few steps. He winces when he tries to walk on it.

  “This isn’t going to work out.” Inola sighs. “One of us should climb up and see if we can see the camp from here. Maybe we could see smoke from the fire?”

  You don’t like the idea of separating, especially as the snow starts to fall more rapidly. You also don’t want Inola to get hurt climbing either. But you can’t think of a better idea.

  “Be careful.” Wahya balances on one leg.

  You and Wahya watch Inola clamber up the craggy rocks and disappear over the ledge. You can hardly see anything anymore. The snowstorm’s gotten much worse very quickly.

  Minutes turn to hours. Soon you and Wahya are covered in snow. You call out for Inola, but she’s disappeared. You and Wahya are stuck in these snowy mountains, never to be found.

   THE END

  Return to page 93

  You disregard the clerk’s advice and buy more food. This strange cold front should pass soon enough.

  Ma stocks up on sugar, flour, thick slabs of bacon, and half a bushel of cornmeal. She also purchases something called pilot bread, or hardtack.

  A simple mixture of flour and water, the bread bakes over the fire for a long time. It tastes stale but lasts for years.

  You, Inola, and Wahya sneak a piece to share and immediately spit it out.

  “Yuck!” Wahya wipes his mouth.

  Then Emma takes a dainty bite. Her face scrunches up, and all of you laugh—even her. She shudders and slips the bread back into the wagon.

  “Let’s hope we don’t need to eat that for a long time.” She rubs her hands clean of crumbs. “I’d rather not break a tooth.”

  As you go on, you regret buying food instead of blankets. It may get warm later on, but right now, it’s still very cold. At night, everyone sits around the fire, huddled close together, shivering. Even with a roaring fire, the bitter winds slip through your clothing right into your skin.

  Your tent doesn’t provide much protection either. You toss and turn, still freezing on your bedroll despite wearing every item of clothing you have. You just can’t seem to warm up.

  To make things worse, you realize that you didn’t even need to buy this much food in the first place. Atsadi and Tsayoga teach your family how to set traps to catch jackrabbits and squirrels. Even when game is scarce, Tsula shows you how to dig for roots and look for tree bark to chew on. It’s not exactly appealing, but it staves off hunger for a while.

  “We can’t go on like this.” Pa cradles Jaime. He looks at Ma’s pale face. “Maybe we should stop in Hopkinsville. Try to wait out this weather.”

  Tsayoga and Tsula shake their heads.

  “We want to avoid as many towns as we can.” Tsula rubs her hands near the fire. “We can try to make a better shelter here.”

  Pa looks to Emma and you, wondering what to do. Should you try to make another stop in Hopkinsville, Kentucky? Or should you set up camp down in the hills?

  To go to Hopkinsville, turn to page 64

  To set up camp where you are, turn to page 25

  Return to page 66

  You decide to continue on alone. You can’t afford to share supplies this early on in your journey.

  Before you return to your own campfire, Tsula gives you directions back to the main road.

  By the next morning, Tsayoga and his family have already gone. Getting to the main road takes much longer than you thought it would. You plod on through the woods.

  Even though it’s April in Georgia, the weather is cold. Thick, dark clouds ro
ll across the sky. Soon, the sky turns black. Wind howls, thunder booms all around you, and it starts to pour. Icy rain lashes out at your open wagon. Within minutes, you’re drenched.

  “We have to get out of this storm!” Ma clutches baby Jaime tightly to her chest.

  You rush to an abandoned barn across the field. The roof is sagging and leaking rain. The wood is damp, making it hard to start a fire. Once a spark finally catches, smoke fills the barn. You cough—there isn’t much ventilation. You’re all so cold, wet, and utterly miserable.

  You wake up the next morning to the sound of scuffling and shouts. Someone’s trying to rob you! You scramble awake. You’re surrounded by thieves. They take everything you have, including your livestock. Now you have nothing left and no way to get to Oregon City.

   THE END

  Return to page 11

  You’ve already wasted too much time getting lost. Your wagon train is highly inexperienced and needs guidance every step of the way. You urge Pa to listen to Sha-kó-ka. In turn, he speaks to the Clay brothers.

  “I don’t want to get off track again.” Charlie Clay swallows. You know he feels guilty for leading your wagon train astray.

  “But if we have to lose our wagons, then what’s the point?” Tsayoga tilts his head.

  Finally, the Clay brothers relent. You’ll take the Yellowstone River route.

  You travel for several weeks, navigating northwest along the Missouri River, then turning down the Yellowstone River. The landscape is mostly flat with trees and brush dotting the plains. After reading so much about the desert-like conditions along the Snake River on the Oregon Trail, you’re glad you don’t have to endure the heat. It’s the cold you have to fight. Sometimes you feel like your feet will freeze off. Your heels crunch the frozen grass underneath them as you walk.

  It takes you about a month to get down the Yellowstone River. It’s now the end of September, and it’s only getting colder. You have to walk with two thick blankets wrapped over your jacket. You and Tsayoga’s family have to share stringy rabbit and fish meat, when you can catch it. It seems like all the animals have gone into an early hibernation—even the animals that don’t hibernate.

  Along the way, you come across a prominent rock formation jutting out among the trees. You stop to rest for nooning and climb up with Inola and Wahya. Carved into the rock you see:

  W. CLARK

  JULY 25, 1806

  “Pompey’s Pillar!” Inola jumps up and down. “Named after Sacagawea’s baby son.”

  When you spot the Rocky Mountains, you can’t believe how immense and majestic they are. You’ve never seen anything like them, sharply jutting into the sky like giant jagged teeth.

  How in the world are you getting over those?

  When you reach the foothills, the wagons begin to have problems. Passersby tell you it’s late September. The leaves have turned burnt orange, red, and yellow, and it’s already snowing here.

  “So it didn’t matter that we took this route.” Charlie Clay slumps. “We still have to abandon our wagons. Do you know how expensive these are?”

  “All too well.” Tsayoga huffs. “But we need to be practical. Maybe we can sell them if we’re lucky? We can’t turn back now. We must abandon the wagons and either walk or buy horses.”

  “Horses will cost a lot of money.” Henry crosses his arms in front of him.

  “But we can’t carry everything on our backs.” Ma cradles Jaime. “And we need some supplies when we get to Oregon City.”

  You understand both perspectives. You don’t want to traverse the Bitterroot Range, which is part of the Rockies, on foot, but your family is almost broke. You might have to give up everything you own to get enough horses to ride for the rest of the journey.

  Pa and Tsayoga go out scouting and meet with the local Salish Nation. The Salish people agree to trade horses, but the price will be steep—and they don’t want to buy any covered wagons. With the excessive cold, it’s been a bad harvest year for everyone.

  Some wagon-train members still want to walk. They don’t want to pay for horses. Your wagon train is torn.

  What should you do? Should you try to make your way through the Rocky Mountains on foot, or buy horses from the Salish Nation?

  To buy horses, turn to page 29

  To go on foot, turn to page 57

  Return to page 43

  You tell Ma to get the blankets. After all, you’ve been wearing every layer you have to bed each night, and you’ve still been cold. It’s wise to listen to the locals. If the store clerk thinks this weather is odd, it’s probably a good idea to take his advice.

  Ma shushes a gurgling Jaime. “You’re right. We don’t want to run out of food on the Trail, but we also don’t want to freeze before we get there.”

  “Shouldn’t it be getting warmer, though?” Emma leans on the counter. “What if we’re wasting money on something that we’ll only have to discard in a few weeks?”

  But Ma agrees with you. “Even so, we can always trade the blankets later if need be. For now, it’s important to stay warm.”

  That night, you’re so warm wrapped in your new blanket.

  The next day, you continue on to Kentucky. The ground flattens, and the landscape is thick with trees and meadows.

  Towns and trading posts are fewer and farther between. You don’t want to stop too often, anyway. You still need money for a covered wagon, oxen, and food for the Oregon Trail. And you’re very behind schedule. The wagons are slow and cumbersome, weighed down with supplies. Your pace is under fifteen miles a day.

  You take a ferry across the Ohio River into Illinois to make up a little time. You’re getting closer to Saint Louis, and from there, it’s not too far to Independence. The growing cold makes you miss the Jacksonville swamplands.

  * * *

  You arrive outside of Cape Girardeau. It’s a bustling port city by the Mississippi River, separating Missouri and Illinois. From here, you can either continue north up the Mississippi River to Saint Louis by wagon, or take the new steamboat upriver. The steamboat has been around for only a few years, but you’ve never seen anything so exciting. You, Wahya, and Inola run up and down the docks to listen to the bellowing horns and watch thick black smoke puff from the cylindrical stacks.

  One argument in favor of taking the steamboat is that it would save time. It’s already the middle of May. You should be leaving from Independence by now, and you’re not even in Saint Louis. You’ve read in your guidebook that most wagon trains leave from Independence in April or early May to avoid reaching the Blue Mountains in the early autumn months. If you leave too late, you might not find a wagon train to join.

  Your parents talk with Tsayoga and Tsula about taking the steamboat upriver to Saint Louis. Your Cherokee friends feel more and more comfortable in busy towns but are still cautious as they travel farther away from the South.

  The only problem is that the steamboat is very expensive. Even if you sell your sturdy farm wagon, the ride will cost you more than you want to spend, and you still need to buy a covered wagon in Saint Louis. If you run out of money, then you’ll have nothing for traveling the Trail or starting a farm in Oregon Territory.

  Should you save money and risk leaving much later on the Oregon Trail? Or should you spend the money on the steamboat to get to Independence sooner?

  To take the steamboat, turn to page 97

  To continue in your farm wagon, turn to page 23

  Return to page 66

  You settle on stopping to rest at Fort Vancouver. After eating a quick meal, you continue along the Columbia River and pull into the port.

  Built as a fur-trading post on the northern side of the river, the fort was constructed in a parallelogram shape and enclosed by a heavy wall made of thick wooden beams reaching more than twenty feet high. Inside the fort’s ramparts are multiple buildings, including residences, a blacksmith’s forge, warehouses, stables, and even a library and schoolhouse.

  You see log cabins, gardens, and
a sawmill. The shipyard buzzes with activity as ships sail up and down the Columbia River out to the Pacific. You see so many people, including fur trappers, soldiers helping to run the fort, and people of Indigenous Nations such as the Chinook, the Nez Perce, and the Shoshone.

  It’s good that you stopped to rest. Ma’s been getting sick, and so has little Jaime. Even Emma has started to sniffle at dinner. Your group eats at the fort’s dining hall and sleeps overnight at the lodge. As you sink onto a mattress, you can’t wait to have a permanent bed in your new home in Oregon City.

  But when you wake up the next morning, your throat feels like it’s on fire. You can barely get your head off the pillow. When you try to get up, the room spins. You attempt to call out for someone, but your voice is gone!

  Luckily Emma runs into the room. “You need to get back into bed.” She feels your forehead. “You’re burning up.” She hurries to dip a cloth into the basin of water and places the cloth on your forehead. “The rest of our family is sick, even little Jaime. Wahya is ill too. You need to rest.”

  You rasp out something, but you don’t remember what. You spend the next few days in and out of consciousness. Much to your chagrin, Emma is the one who takes care of you. But you’re grateful when she covers your hot forehead with a cool cloth and feeds you warm broth.