Chapter 2: Crossing the Creek

"The rushing sound of water filled the still air. All along the creek banks the trees hung over it and make it dark with shadows. In the middle it ran swiftly, sparkling silver and blue.

'This creek's pretty high,' Pa said. 'But I guess we can make it all right. You can see this is a ford, by the old wheel ruts. What do you say, Caroline?'

'Whatever you say, Charles,' Ma answered."

Pa, Ma, and the girls have traveled for days and days across the Kansas prairie. Now they are approaching a creek down at the bottom of a valley. It is quiet and still in the bottom lands where the blowing wind doesn't reach, but the creek is rushing and gushing along. Pa wonders if it is safe to cross.

Laura wants Jack, their bulldog, to ride in the wagon with them, but Pa says he will be able to swim the creek just fine. They start across the creek, but when they are out in the middle the water suddenly starts to rise. Pa jumps into the creek to lead the swimming ponies across and Ma must take the reins. Ma tells Laura and Mary to lie still in the wagon, then covers them up with a thick, heavy quilt so they can't see and become frightened.

For many minutes the wagon sways in the water and the ponies swim, fighting to keep from being swept away by the flood. At last their wagon scrapes the bottom on the far side of the creek and they pull out of the swift current. Pa is glad they are safe and Ma's face starts to lose its scared look, but where is Jack?

Jack was swimming behind them when the flood hit, but now he is nowhere to be seen. Pa walks up and down the creek bank calling and calling for him, but there is no answer. Pa is sorry that he didn't let Jack ride in the wagon. Now the family must move on, climbing up, up, up out of the bottom lands and onto the high prairie.

Thoughts:

Well, this is a challenging chapter. What to do....what to do? Finley's been looking a little nervous ever since I completed the chapter, but I don't think I'm ready to drown him, even for an authentic Little House experience. I could take him swimming, but there is no liquid water in its natural habitat at this time of year. And giving him a bath in the tub, while it does involve intense canine suffering, doesn't seem like a very good comparison. So I guess Finley is safe...for now.


It may not be the most exciting of all the activities I've tried, but overall, I find making a salt dough map of Laura's journey to be much preferable to offing my faithful companion. My first step was to look up a recipe for salt dough on the internet---really, I don't know what pioneers did before the internet was invented. It is as follows:

Salt Dough

1 cup flour
1 cup salt
1/2 cup water.

You can change the ratio of salt to flour, with more flour giving you a smoother dough and more salt giving a grainy, rough texture. Mix it up, form your creations, then bake in the oven at a low temperature until done. This takes approximately forever, but baking them too fast causes bubbling, warping, and cracking.

Following this recipe will give you a dough that looks somewhat like biscuit or sugar cookie dough. Do not be fooled; it tastes like eating the ocean. Of course, it does open up certain possibilities to the practical joke-inclined person, but *I* would never be so cruel. As it turns out, I don't even have to be cruel if I hang around greedy, disobedient people.

See, it happened this way. My bowl of innocent-appearing dough was sitting on the counter when my sister came over. I happened to look up just as she reached in and pinched off a bite.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" I screeched, stopping her in her tracks. She looked at me, eyes wide and startled. For a split second we both stood frozen, then moving with lightning speed she grabbed a piece and popped it into her mouth.

Oh, well. I tried. Now there was nothing left to do but sit back and enjoy the show.

Almost immediately her triumphant expression melted into one of horrified disgust. She raced for the trash can, wiping her tongue and spitting all at the same time. Over the sounds of my hysterical laughter I heard her plaintive wail, "I thought you were just trying to keep all the good stuff for yourself...."

So, like I said, there are possibilities for someone if they are so inclined.

Anyhoo, after the dough was mixed, I carefully rolled it out, transferred it to the pan, then traced out the shape from a map I got from---where else---the internet. I labored over it with love and care, working in the basic state shapes while my mom looked up topographical information. Just as I was finishing she handed me the first print out, for Wisconsin. Let's see, where is Wisconsin? WHERE IS WISCONSIN?!

I had completely forgotten to include Wisconsin. Thankfully, there was a little border left around the edges that I was planning to cut off, and since the Big Woods were in the bottom left region of the state, I was able to extend my map just a little. Except my mom, Wisconsin born and bred, seemed to feel that her state was being slighted somehow. Just because there's only a sliver of it showing!

Then it was time to paint it, something that I always enjoy. It is easy to make a painting of a large section of the earth look good; all you have to do is blend some colors together and it looks like it's supposed to. Adding the details was fun, and if the map lasts, I'll paint more as the tales progress. In fact, I had such a good time that I might make a more lasting and detailed one on paper sometime and offer it on the blog. We'll see.

Voila! The finished map of Laura's journey---much faster and less work than riding to Kansas in a covered wagon. Note: The first picture says "Big Woods" not "Bic Woods". That is a 'G' even if it doesn't look like one in the picture.





Of course, I don't think Laura and her family had to worry about giant, marauding kittens eating their settlement, so you can see we don't have everything easy!