{"product_id":"new-found-land-isbn-9780763632885","title":"New Found Land","description":"\u003cb\u003e\"This amazing work presents the adventure of Lewis and Clark through the eyes of its participants.\" — \u003ci\u003eSchool Library Journal\u003c\/i\u003e (starred review)\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn powerful, lyrical language, here is the journey of Lewis and Clark told by themselves and their diverse crew — from a one-eyed French-Indian fiddler to Clark’s African-American slave; from Sacagawea to Lewis’s Newfoundland dog, a \"seer\" whose narrative resonates long after the book is closed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAn American Library Association Best Book for Young Adults\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAn International Reading Association Children’s Book Award Notable\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA New York Public Library Book for the Teen Age\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA \u003ci\u003eSchool Library Journal \u003c\/i\u003eBest Book of the Year\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA Lion and the Unicorn Honor Winner for Excellence in North American Poetry\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTwo starred reviews (\u003ci\u003eKirkus\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eSchool Library Journal\u003c\/i\u003e)SACAGAWEA \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTHE BIRD WOMAN\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAfter my eleventh winter\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI was kidnapped by our enemies\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand made to be their slave.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy people, the Shoshone, were in hiding\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ein the Shining Mountains \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eat the place where three rivers become one.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn times of war, we never left the camp unescorted.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat day the young brave Split Feather\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewatched over my cousin and me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSplit Feather kept lookout from atop his horse\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhile we two girls crouched by a creek\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003emashing pah-see-goo roots with a heavy stone.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWe were filled with hope. Spring had arrived.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWe would soon return to the plains to hunt the buffalo.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSoon there would be skins to cover our tepees.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSoon there would be meat to fill our stomachs.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI was yet a young girl, but a strong one.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCousin was older and due to marry Split Feather soon.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThey brought joy to each other\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand their union was a blessing to our family.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLong ago my father had promised me to Sitting Hawk,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ean important Shoshone scout.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI was to become his wife,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebut not until I reached womanhood.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDespite our hunger, Cousin and I were always laughing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat day was no different.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe held her basket, filled with roots, against her stomach.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Look, Watches the Sky,\" she said, joking.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I am pregnant with many small children.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eEven serious Split Feather cracked a smile.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSuddenly we heard the sound of the hawk.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt was Sitting Hawk, at watch in the forest,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003esignaling to the tribe that the enemy was near.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eEvery bird ceased its singing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy cousin and I fell silent too.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWe were still as the trees.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSplit Feather raised his head to listen-\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe high whine of a flying arrow.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe thud of arrow hitting flesh, cracking bone.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSplit Feather’s chest erupted in blood;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehis eyes were wide; he died instantly.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe arrow passed through him as if\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehis body had been river mist.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCousin ran across the water and vanished\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003einto the woods at the far side of the creek.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI remained crouching by the stream.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTry as I might, I could not move.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSplit Feather slumped onto his horse.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHis eyes, open in death, watched me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHis body slid to the ground.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA Hidatsa warrior broke through the thicket.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe sat high atop a white horse.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn his left hand he held the rein.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn his right hand he held a long battle club.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe gestured with the club as if to say,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNow bow your head — you are mine.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eInstead I stood.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI remembered the rock in my hand.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd I hurled it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI managed to hit him between the eyes.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe warrior’s expression was fear and surprise.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut then he smiled.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBlood streamed down his painted face,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eacross his white teeth.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe licked it from his lips,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehis grin turning red.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAs if in a dream I turned, like a doe, to leap\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eas the warrior on the white horse raised his club\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand, still smiling,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebrought it down\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eagainst my head.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGEORGE SHANNON\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTHE KID\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI’m a talker.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy mom always said George,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eif you were a blackberry,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eyou could talk your way out of a hungry bear’s mouth.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e                        So I came to Pittsburgh to stay with Uncle Will\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e                        while I went to school to study the law.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e            At least that’s what my mother thinks.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e            The past few weeks I’ve been working \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e            as an apprentice at the Tarascon Brothers Shipyard.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e                        My plan was to eventually hop on a ship \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e                        bound for the open ocean.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e                        I figure I can always become a lawyer later\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e                        but for now I want to live a little,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003esee the world,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e                        get my feet wet.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e                        Anybody can become a lawyer.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e                        I want to become something special.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e                        I want to accomplish \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e                        something that no one else can top.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e                        I want to read my story in the history books.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e                        Not like my father.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e                        He worked like a dog doing ordinary things\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e                        and then he up and died just like that.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e                        Well, that’s not for me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNow, today down at the Green Tree Tavern \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe boys are all talking about this officer\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e                        come to town to have a keelboat built \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e                        to sail himself on an expedition of discovery\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e                        to explore certain secret stretches of our great country\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e                        that no other civilized man has yet seen.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWell, that sounds like the boat George Shannon has been waiting for.\u003cb\u003eAllan Wolf\u003c\/b\u003e is the author of many books for young people, including the novel \u003ci\u003eThe Watch that Ends the Night\u003c\/i\u003e, which was named one of the 50 Best Young Adult Novels of All Time by \u003ci\u003eBooklist\u003c\/i\u003e; the novel \u003ci\u003eJunius Leak and the Spiraling Vortex of Doom;\u003c\/i\u003e the nonfiction graphic novel \u003ci\u003eThe Vanishing of Lake Peigneur\u003c\/i\u003e, illustrated by Jose Pimienta; and the poetry collection \u003ci\u003eThe Gift of the Broken Teacup\u003c\/i\u003e, illustrated by Jade Orlando. His books celebrate his love of research, history, science, and poetry. He is a \u003ci\u003eLos Angeles Times\u003c\/i\u003e Book Prize finalist, a two-time winner of the North Carolina Young Adult Book Award, and a recipient of the Bank Street College Claudia Lewis Award. Allan Wolf lives in Roanoke, Virginia, with his wife, his sister, and a dog named Mo. Learn more at \u003cu\u003ewww.allanwolf.com\u003c\/u\u003e.SACAGAWEA \u003cbr\u003eTHE BIRD WOMAN\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAfter my eleventh winter\u003cbr\u003eI was kidnapped by our enemies\u003cbr\u003eand made to be their slave.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy people, the Shoshone, were in hiding\u003cbr\u003ein the Shining Mountains \u003cbr\u003eat the place where three rivers become one.\u003cbr\u003eIn times of war, we never left the camp unescorted.\u003cbr\u003eThat day the young brave Split Feather\u003cbr\u003ewatched over my cousin and me.\u003cbr\u003eSplit Feather kept lookout from atop his horse\u003cbr\u003ewhile we two girls crouched by a creek\u003cbr\u003emashing pah-see-goo roots with a heavy stone.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWe were filled with hope. Spring had arrived.\u003cbr\u003eWe would soon return to the plains to hunt the buffalo.\u003cbr\u003eSoon there would be skins to cover our tepees.\u003cbr\u003eSoon there would be meat to fill our stomachs.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI was yet a young girl, but a strong one.\u003cbr\u003eCousin was older and due to marry Split Feather soon.\u003cbr\u003eThey brought joy to each other\u003cbr\u003eand their union was a blessing to our family.\u003cbr\u003eLong ago my father had promised me to Sitting Hawk,\u003cbr\u003ean important Shoshone scout.\u003cbr\u003eI was to become his wife,\u003cbr\u003ebut not until I reached womanhood.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDespite our hunger, Cousin and I were always laughing.\u003cbr\u003eThat day was no different.\u003cbr\u003eShe held her basket, filled with roots, against her stomach.\u003cbr\u003e\"Look, Watches the Sky,\" she said, joking.\u003cbr\u003e\"I am pregnant with many small children.\"\u003cbr\u003eEven serious Split Feather cracked a smile.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSuddenly we heard the sound of the hawk.\u003cbr\u003eIt was Sitting Hawk, at watch in the forest,\u003cbr\u003esignaling to the tribe that the enemy was near.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eEvery bird ceased its singing.\u003cbr\u003eMy cousin and I fell silent too.\u003cbr\u003eWe were still as the trees.\u003cbr\u003eSplit Feather raised his head to listen-\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe high whine of a flying arrow.\u003cbr\u003eThe thud of arrow hitting flesh, cracking bone.\u003cbr\u003eSplit Feather’s chest erupted in blood;\u003cbr\u003ehis eyes were wide; he died instantly.\u003cbr\u003eThe arrow passed through him as if\u003cbr\u003ehis body had been river mist.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCousin ran across the water and vanished\u003cbr\u003einto the woods at the far side of the creek.\u003cbr\u003eI remained crouching by the stream.\u003cbr\u003eTry as I might, I could not move.\u003cbr\u003eSplit Feather slumped onto his horse.\u003cbr\u003eHis eyes, open in death, watched me.\u003cbr\u003eHis body slid to the ground.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA Hidatsa warrior broke through the thicket.\u003cbr\u003eHe sat high atop a white horse.\u003cbr\u003eIn his left hand he held the rein.\u003cbr\u003eIn his right hand he held a long battle club.\u003cbr\u003eHe gestured with the club as if to say,\u003cbr\u003eNow bow your head -- you are mine.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eInstead I stood.\u003cbr\u003eI remembered the rock in my hand.\u003cbr\u003eAnd I hurled it.\u003cbr\u003eI managed to hit him between the eyes.\u003cbr\u003eThe warrior’s expression was fear and surprise.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut then he smiled.\u003cbr\u003eBlood streamed down his painted face,\u003cbr\u003eacross his white teeth.\u003cbr\u003eHe licked it from his lips,\u003cbr\u003ehis grin turning red.\u003cbr\u003eAs if in a dream I turned, like a doe, to leap\u003cbr\u003eas the warrior on the white horse raised his club\u003cbr\u003eand, still smiling,\u003cbr\u003ebrought it down\u003cbr\u003eagainst my head.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGEORGE SHANNON\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTHE KID\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI’m a talker.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy mom always said George,\u003cbr\u003eif you were a blackberry,\u003cbr\u003eyou could talk your way out of a hungry bear’s mouth.\u003cbr\u003eSo I came to Pittsburgh to stay with Uncle Will\u003cbr\u003ewhile I went to school to study the law.\u003cbr\u003eAt least that’s what my mother thinks.\u003cbr\u003eThe past few weeks I’ve been working \u003cbr\u003eas an apprentice at the Tarascon Brothers Shipyard.\u003cbr\u003eMy plan was to eventually hop on a ship \u003cbr\u003ebound for the open ocean.\u003cbr\u003eI figure I can always become a lawyer later\u003cbr\u003ebut for now I want to live a little,\u003cbr\u003esee the world,\u003cbr\u003eget my feet wet.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnybody can become a lawyer.\u003cbr\u003eI want to become something special.\u003cbr\u003eI want to accomplish \u003cbr\u003esomething that no one else can top.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI want to read my story in the history books.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNot like my father.\u003cbr\u003eHe worked like a dog doing ordinary things\u003cbr\u003eand then he up and died just like that.\u003cbr\u003eWell, that’s not for me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNow, today down at the Green Tree Tavern \u003cbr\u003ethe boys are all talking about this officer\u003cbr\u003ecome to town to have a keelboat built \u003cbr\u003eto sail himself on an expedition of discovery\u003cbr\u003eto explore certain secret stretches of our great country\u003cbr\u003ethat no other civilized man has yet seen.\u003cbr\u003eWell, that sounds like the boat George Shannon has been waiting for.","brand":"Candlewick","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46301693051109,"sku":"NP9780763632885","price":19.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780763632885.jpg?v=1767733657","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/new-found-land-isbn-9780763632885","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}