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The Shoshone

Well, I definitely wasn’t bored anymore.

I landed smack in the middle of a river. The boys were already there, standing in the knee-deep water. Water quickly filled my tennis shoes, soaking my socks and making my jeans feel heavy.

“Yuck,” Zack grimaced. “I hate wet feet.”

I hated wet feet too, but I wasn’t going to complain. Or groan. Or worry. I’d leave all that to Zack. Right after Mr. C had said we didn’t have to do the mapping project, I had snapped back to being my bold and curious self.

Besides, I was in the past, standing in some river. I knew I wasn’t anywhere near whatever was making those animal noises. That was good.

Jacob, Zack, and I moved as quickly as we could toward the riverbank. The water wasn’t deep, but it was moving fast and felt like melted ice. As I pulled myself out onto the dusty ground, I noticed that Bo was still standing in the water.

“Bo,” I called out. “Are you frozen?”

Bo didn’t respond. But I could see he was shivering. His sweatpants and T-shirt were totally soaked.

“Bo?” I repeated. “What’s the deal? Do you need help?” I was starting to worry.

“Look,” he said at last. One word. So soft, I could barely even hear him over the rushing river.

I glanced in the direction he was facing. A large wooden box was floating downstream toward him. And behind that, an empty canoe. It was upside down and moving fast.

The box would pass him by. But in less than a minute, the canoe would sweep Bo off his feet, carrying him away. “Bo!” I shouted, straining my voice. “Get out of the water!”

“I think that’s one of Lewis and Clark’s canoes!” he called back. “I have to save it.”

I quickly turned to the twins. “He’s going to get killed. That thing is coming too fast.”

Jacob stashed the computer behind a tree, and the three of us jumped into the water. Gritting my teeth against the cold, we lined up next to Bo.

The canoe was practically flying toward us.

Jacob counted: “One. Two.” And on three, the middle of the canoe hit me solidly in the thighs, nearly knocking me over. I barely kept my balance, holding on to the canoe with all my might. It dragged me a short ways.

Bo was next to me. He wrapped his hands around the left end of the canoe, trying desperately to slow it down.

Jacob was struggling with the other end. Pushing at it with straight arms.

And Zack was . . . shoot! I didn’t see Zack anywhere.

I called out, “Jacob, where’s your twin?”

Jacob glanced around, then tilted his head downstream. When we’d gone after the canoe, Zack had reached for the wooden box. He was sort of on top of it, sort of under it. Dragging the crate toward the river’s edge.

Bo, Jacob, and I managed to flip the canoe over and get it to the side. We pulled it up onto the riverbank, far enough that the river wouldn’t wash it away again. When we were done, we hurried over to Zack.

“Hey, what are you doing?” I called out as we sloshed through the water toward him.

“I’m helping the Quarter Lady,” Zack called back.

It was then I noticed the young woman standing with Zack. My sister, CeCe, is sixteen years old. I guessed that this woman was about the same age.

The woman was in the water, pulling on the box, while Zack guided it toward the river’s edge. A big hole was in the side of the crate. Loose papers were floating down the river.

By the time Zack and the young woman had gotten the crate wedged on land, Zack was breathless and shivering. Bo, Jacob, and I were also exhausted. I placed my hands on my knees, taking deep breaths.