Walking Up a Rainbow

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Orphaned at fourteen, Susan Carlisle is suddenly
the owner of her parents' beautiful Iowa home,
two thousand sheep . . . and a huge ...
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Overview

Orphaned at fourteen, Susan Carlisle is suddenly
the owner of her parents' beautiful Iowa home,
two thousand sheep . . . and a huge debt that puts her
at the mercy of a scoundrel determined to take it
all the away. With barely a moment of hestation,
Susan heads for California to sell the sheep, and pay
the debt. Along the way she bravely faces the
hardships and excitement of the western trail,
and boldly ropes an American cowboy into
her scheme . . . and into her heart.

Author Biography: Theodore Taylor was born in North Carolina and began writing at the age of thirteen as a cub reporter for the Portsmouth, Virginia Evening Star. Leaving home at seventeen to join the Washington Daily News as a copy boy, he worked his way toward New York City and became an NBC network sportswriter at the age of nineteen. Mr. Taylor is the author of a dozen books for young readers, among them the award-winning The Cay. He lives in Laguna Beach, California, with his wife, Flora.

In 1852, a fourteen-year-old orphan and her elderly guardian, accompanied by a tough drover and his crew, take several thousand sheep from Iowa to California, returning by ship through the Panama Canal, to raise money to save the girl's home from a villainous debt collector.

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Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly - Publisher's Weekly
The year is 1851. Susan Carlisle, a feisty 14-year-old who has recently been orphaned, would be well off if it weren't for G. B. Minzter. He has sued to take all she hashouse and moneyto cover a debt her late father incurred. Susan has one year to pay off the $15,000 she owes. She decides to sell her only possession4000 sheepto raise the money. In order to do so she faces a walk from Iowa to California, where hungry gold miners will pay high prices for the sheep. She lies, coaxes and finally persuades a drover to undertake the cross-country sheep-walk. The tale of their journey is colorful and exciting; details of Gold Rush America are accurate, and the frontier idiom is used consistently throughout. One jarring note is the lengthy section where Clay Carmer, the young drover Susan has set her sights on, takes over the narrationan obvious device to distance the reader from the trauma of an attempted rape that occurs here. But in general, the book's lighthearted, gun-toting tone is sustained at the cost of real character development. (12-up)
The ALAN Review - M. Jean Greenlaw
In 1851, Susan Carlisle is thirteen, orphaned, and the heiress of her parents' beautiful home and two thousand sheep. Enter the villain, the owner of a gambling den and house of ill repute, to whom Susan's father owes $15,000 (at three percent interest). In the best tradition of the "Perils of Pauline," Susan vows to outwit her nemesis and win back her home. Her plan involves a trip west to California with her sheep and all of the ensuing danger, as well as her determination to win the hand of a cowboy who goes with her on the trail. The book is a wonderful send-up, complete with spunky heroine and other fascinating characters. Filled with action, the book is nevertheless a bit long; a reader might get a little weary before Susan finally gets back home. Taylor's dialogue is crisp, and the story is replete with folksy sayings. The section told in the voice of the cowboy provides an interesting counterpoint in language differences. Historical fiction buffs will find this a fun read.
School Library Journal
Gr 6-9 The story of 14-year-old orphan Susan D. Carlisle and her attempt to foil a villain who has placed a lien on her entire inheritance for a debt of her father's. Susan and her guardian, Indian Myrt Dessery, hire drover Burt Pettit and his absurd crew to drive a herd of sheep that are in her name to California to feed the Forty-Niners. A French-speaking black Moroccan and the ``original cowboy'' Clay B. Carmer, Susan's hero, are the most notable characters. After getting enough moneypartly from the sale of the sheep and partly from gamblingSusan heads home but not in time to meet her deadline. She eventually receives a sort of ``love'' letter from Clay and heads for New Mexico and perhaps marriage. Walking Up a Rainbow is almost exciting and funny, but it falls short. The characters don't quite come alive; the humor isn't quite light enough; the adventures are too serious for the plot (Susan is almost raped at Independence Rock). Susan narrates parts One and Three, and Carmer narrates the middle section, a technique that is somewhat confusing. Also, the story's mood lapses occasionally with explanations ``For those of you not familiar with history. . . .'' In the book's favor are its realistic descriptions of life on a sheep drive and especially the trip by sea from California down to Panama, overland to the Gulf and home via the Mississippi. Enjoyable despite its flaws. Dorcas Hand, Episcopal High School, Bellaire, Tex.
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780380725922
  • Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
  • Publication date: 8/28/1996
  • Series: Flare Bks.
  • Edition description: Reprint
  • Pages: 288
  • Age range: 10 - 14 Years
  • Lexile: 910L (what's this?)

Meet the Author

THEODORE TAYLOR, the author of many acclaimed books for young people, is particularly known for fast-paced, exciting adventure novels, including the bestseller The Cay; Sniper; and The Weirdo, an Edgar Allan Poe Award winner. He lives in Laguna Beach, California.

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Read an Excerpt

Chapter One

Not long after breakfast that mellow autumn dawn there was a banging on the front door and I dried my hands, shushing big Rufus's deep-throated barking, then went on down the dark hallway from the kitchen, wondering who might be visiting at such an hour.

Pinching his bloodstained right thigh, a gangling, long-armed stranger was what I found lurking on my wide front porch. Eyes pleading, whiskery face shingle long and about as narrow, he looked helpless rather than mean or threatening.

Behind him and the open gate was a new homemade prairie schooner with three yoke of oxen and one of cow hooked on. Heads of a woman and some small children poked out of the white hooped cover, gawking straight at me. Likely Mormon pilgrims on their way to Utah. Overlanders, to be sure, Salt Lake City-bound.

"Doctor home?" the man asked. He was positively pasty.

"Nope. Hurt yourself?"

"Sure did, li'l missus."

I was not a "missus," nor was I so little. In my glorious teens at that time, I was single, thank you. My eyes narrowed down to cautious slits.

He went on, "Spent last night 'bout two mile east

O'here. Cuttin' firewood at daybreak, an' I got it right in the leg."

"You do need se I'll do that for you."

Drawing back, ewing up. he said, "Wal', now, I don't rightly know...."

I just stood absolutely stock-still in that doorway, tempted to tell him to take his sainted Mormon leg on up the road.

"You're too young to be the doctor's wife," he blurted, frowning darkly at me.

"I'm his daughter, but I sure know how."

"You sure, are you?"

"Sure, I'm sure. Not much to sewing, is there?Just in and out. I've done it a dozen times." Well, six or eight, anyway.

Unhappily, he clumped after me into the doctor's office. Looking around, his eyes swept over the glittering surgical knives and forceps and saws, the splints and the big jar of hungry black leeches. His Adam's apple jumped when he saw several other jars containing body parts preserved in alcohol.

Well, what did he expect? This was not a candy shop.

The neat blue sign outside read, DR. Giddings Carlisle, M.D. Surgery and Physic in all Branches Sets Bones Draws Teeth. Bleeds. Advice Gratis

"I sure hope you know how," the skinny man mumbled.

Truth was, that Mormon didn't have much choice. My father, lone physician in Kanesville, Iowa, was far, far from these parts.

I ordered, "Now, take off your boots and pants, and crawl up on that surgical table."

I'd seen privates before, having assisted the doctor a number of times. My mother was always too squeamish, prone to fainting.

"Slip them right off," I demanded.

"Wal', I... I..."

Then he turned his back to me, and to ease his manly feelings I said, "I've got to go wash my hands, anyway." The doctor was always so careful before he did surgery.

When I returned, my patient was in his long johns, flat on the table, still pinching the right leg, fear etched all over his pastiness. "Just keep pinching it," I instructed.

My first chore was to cut the crimson underwear leg off up near the crotch, but no sooner had I reached for the scissors when he asked, "Why do you need those?"

I told him why.

The main job of that suspicious Mormon was to hold himself stock-still and not butt in. Finally, when I was over at the surgical tray, picking up the curved needle and spool of gut, he asked plaintively, "You gonna give me something?"

Lordy, this was the frontier! Not that fancy hospital down in Saint Louis. I said, "Nope, mister. just lock your teeth and hang on."

Mollycoddles needn't ever visit my table. There was chloroform and opium in the doctor's drug cabinet, but I did not know enough to fool around with them casually. I'd seen occasions when strong men had to hold a patient down while the doctor worked with quick, bold strokes of the saw even though whiskey and opium had been administered. This occasion was minor, in the splinter-removal category.

While in preparation, dipping cotton balls into alcohol, I asked, "You westering?"

"Yep. Gonna cross the river an' stay in Misery Bottoms till spring, then go on to Salt Lake in a wagon train." His voice was high-pitched and jittery.

"That's a good idea. Trail in the spring," I said, with a quick scan at the gleaming stitcher. I took a moment to hone it while he anxiously watched.

That done, I advanced on him and he looked as if he might jump off and run for the Big Muddy. His eyes were the size of walnuts, whites pulsating.

Standing beside him, I said, "Mister, I'm going to swab some alcohol on you, then do the stitching. This needle ought to go in and out real easy. Now, I'm going to count to three and you take your hand away and hold on to the table. Don't grab my arm or I might puncture you where you don't want to be. Understand?"

Already gritting his teeth, more pasty every second, he just nodded.

"One-two-three,"I said, and he let go of the wound, which was about the length of a standard ax blade. I daubed alcohol to it and I bet you could have heard that Mormon yell all the way to Keokuk.

"Hold still,"I ordered, swabbing his wound just as gently as I could.

Then I pinched down on the upper edge with my left fingers, to get a nice tuft, and began stitching. In went the needle and out came a long moan.

To help calm him down, I said, "Hope it'll be a mild winter for you over there." Walking Up A Rainbow. Copyright © by Theodore Taylor. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.
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Sort by: Showing all of 3 Customer Reviews
  • Anonymous

    Posted March 18, 2000

    Outstanding!

    It was a really, really, really good book to read. I read it in one sitting. I liked it because it is about a girl trying to get along as an orphan.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted November 6, 2012

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    Posted July 23, 2009

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