Wild River Read Online Free PDF

desert island video games. First a shipwreck. Then getting everybody to shore. Then getting warm.
    And finding food. In some of the games, you had to keep eating or your strength dropped.
    At least the food part was easy for me. I went to the dry bag and got some peanut butter and crackers. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I took the first bite. Then I couldn’t get enough.
    Looking over at Tanner, I felt a little funny about stuffing myself with crackers. That didn’t makeany sense—starving myself wouldn’t help him. But I felt funny anyway.
    The crackers made me thirsty, so I dug into the dry bag and found the water bottle. I drank the whole bottle. Then I dug around and found the filter pump. At least I knew how to use that. I stepped into the river and pumped the bottle full of clean water.
    I nibbled on crackers and tried to think. In the video games, after you got food and water and shelter, what did you do? Besides fight off dangerous animals and bad guys and pull somebody out of quicksand.
    Easy. You set up signals for the rescue party.
    That got me thinking about our rescue party. How would they find us? There was only one way: a helicopter. Nothing else would work.
    I looked around. Twenty feet behind us were brush and trees. No helicopter could land here.
    But across the river, things looked better. Down stream there was an open area. Rocky but flat. Big enough for a helicopter to land—I hoped.
    But that would be tomorrow. Or maybe Monday.
    I wondered if helicopters ever flew over this area. Maybe a pilot would spot us from the air. Still, even if somebody did fly over, what would they see? We’d just look like campers resting in the sun.
    In one video game, you tramped big letters in the sand. A message big enough for airplane pilots to read.
    I liked that idea. But it was impossible. What was I going to use to write a message?
    I wished I had a can of spray paint. Bright green or bright red. I’d make letters six feet high. Big enough for any helicopter pilot to see.
    It was silly to waste time wishing, and I knew it. I had no spray paint. No way to make a big bright sign.
    But then I thought of that bright yellow kayak.
    “What do you think, Tanner?” I said out loud. “Is that a dumb idea or what?”
    Right then it seemed possible. I’d get the kayak free from that log. Then I’d haul it over to the farside. I’d cut it into pieces and use the pieces to write a message. A gigantic HELP .
    A crazy idea, maybe. But it was better than sitting there looking at Tanner. And it just might work.
    First I needed a knife. I had dropped the pliers when the dry bag came loose. But Tanner had another knife.
    I lifted the sleeping bag and reached into his pocket. “Tanner,” I shouted, “wake up! Somebody’s stealing your stuff.”
    He didn’t move.
    Tanner’s baggy shorts were cold and wet. I felt bad about that. I should have taken them off him right away.
    Tanner groaned when I slid off his shorts. “Tanner,” I shouted, “can you hear me?” But he just groaned once more.
    Before I did anything else, I dug his jeans out of the dry bag. It wasn’t easy getting them on him, but I thought they might help warm him. I got out his sweatshirt too and wrapped it around his shoulders.
    I picked up the wet shorts and started digging. I found a knife in the third pocket. A regular old knife with two blades. Light enough to hold in my teeth. Right away I pried out the bigger blade.
    I stood and looked at the kayak. Both sides were flat now, and it seemed to be bouncing a little. Maybe, with my help, it could float out of there.
    I looked around for a stick and saw my paddle. Perfect. I picked up the paddle and stepped into the water. It seemed even colder than before.
    Right then I realized what a dumb thing I’d done earlier. If I’d used my head, I could have made things much easier on myself. Instead of coming down the chute on a rope, I should have stayed down below and used the paddle to knock