Five: Two Nights Under One Roof
It was splendid to sleep indoors for a change. Their fire heated that old creetrock building right up, and Laura slept warm and cozy . . . .
Read More Five: Two Nights Under One Roofby Laura Ingalls-Wei
It was splendid to sleep indoors for a change. Their fire heated that old creetrock building right up, and Laura slept warm and cozy . . . .
Read More Five: Two Nights Under One RoofLaura couldn’t sort out at first where her memories ended and where the dreams began. She remembered something stalking her. She could still feel it, icy on her skin, the terror of being treed by some unseen predator. . . .
Read More Eleven: Tobias GoatherdPa and Tobias Goatherd returned from the creek around midday. By then, Mary and Laura had recovered from their experience inside that eerie old building called the reptilsoo, and Laura felt a little foolish for getting so frightened of a silly old skull. . . .
Read More Thirteen: The Herald’s ShrineLaura stood on the tips of her toes, straining to reach her paintbrush just as high as it would go. Everywhere her brush swished and dabbed, the monster’s creetrock skin glowed like new, protecting the ancient beast from wind and rain and sun. . . .
Read More Fourteen: Jimapples“It’s time for us to go,” Pa said when he found them there.
Laura lay cradled in Ma’s lap, beneath the shade of an apple tree. Mary and Baby Grace huddled close beside. Somewhere up above them, birds chirped. . .
Read More Fifteen: Carrying OnThe men had wanted silver. That seemed to be the short of it. The answer hadn’t felt especially satisfying to Laura when Pa had tried to lay it out for her the night before, and, when she awoke the next morning, her questions seemed to have only grown as she slept, like seedlings sprouting new shoots in the moist night air. . . .
Read More Sixteen: The Great Eighty RoadThe inside of the assistant supervisor’s office was as much a jumble as the outside. The floor was bare creetrock. It was discolored but clean. . . .
Read More Seventeen: Hawkeye CrossingThe convoy left at dawn, just as Captain Syed said it would. By the time Laura and her family joined the others around the cold pit of charcoal that had held the previous night’s fire, the big wagon was already hitched to the two bisox. . . .
Read More Eighteen: The FerryThe Great Eighty Road stretched on and on, gray and unwavering, day after day. Laura sometimes found herself despairing at its oppressive straightness, longing for the days when her way had meandered and detoured in all manner of surprising directions. . . .
Read More Nineteen: On ConvoyAs the Great Eighty Road continued to lead them westward, past the sprawling ruins of Damoyne, there were fewer lectric cars, fewer iron signposts, less nameless lectric clutter lying in piles and creeping across their path. . . .
Read More Twenty-One: The Flooded Village