Swarms of Terror

    The cloud seemed to stretch out forever. People stared up at the sky. Farmers stopped working. Women stopped cooking. Kids stopped doing their chores.

    What was that cloud?

    It wasn’t gray like a thundercloud or funnel-shaped like a tornado.

    As the cloud came closer, the day turned dark. Eerie sounds could be heard. Whir. Click, click, click. Buzz. It sounded like thousands of giant scissors snipping at the sky.

    The cloud filled the sky over Laura’s head. And then . . . Thud.

    Something hit the ground. Laura looked down. It was a grasshopper. It was greenish brown. It was an inch long. It had thin legs and bulging eyes.

    Thud, thud, thud, thud.

    More grasshoppers hit the ground. Others hit Laura on the head. Had these bugs somehow been swept into that dark cloud?

    No. Grasshoppers weren’t in the cloud. They were the cloud. It was made up of millions of bugs. And now the bugs were swooping down from the sky.

    The sound was deafening. Grasshoppers buzzed in Laura’s ears. They crawled across her eyes. She tried to swat them away, but she couldn’t. There were too many. She pressed her lips shut to keep the bugs out of her mouth.

    The family was caught in a swarm of bugs. And across the prairie, many others were too.

    The cloud seemed to stretch out forever. For miles around, people stared up at the sky. Farmers put down their pitchforks, and women turned away from their stoves. Children stopped doing their chores.

    What was that cloud?

    It wasn’t gray like a thundercloud or funnel-shaped like a tornado.

    The edges of the cloud sparkled. As it came closer, the day turned dark. Eerie sounds echoed through the air. Whir. Click, click, click. Buzz. It sounded like thousands of enormous scissors snipping at the sky.

    The cloud filled the sky over the Ingalls family farm. And then . . . Thud.

    Something hit the ground. Laura stared in surprise. It was a grasshopper. It was greenish brown and an inch long, with spindly legs and bulging eyes.

    Thud, thud, thud, thud.

    More grasshoppers fell to the ground. Others hit Laura on the head. Had these grasshoppers somehow been swept into that dark cloud?

    No. Grasshoppers weren’t in the cloud. Grasshoppers were the cloud. It was made up of millions of bugs—and now the bugs were swooping down from the sky.

    The sound became a deafening roar. Grasshoppers buzzed in Laura’s ears and crawled across her eyes. She tried to swat them away, but there were too many. Laura pressed her lips together to keep bugs from flying into her mouth.

    The entire family was caught in a swarm of bugs—and so were thousands of other people across the prairie.

    The kind of grasshopper that attacked Laura’s family was called a Rocky Mountain locust. These locusts liked dry weather.

    The prairie had been going through a long drought. It was a perfect time for the locusts to multiply and form huge swarms.

    In the late 1800s, locust swarms destroyed farms in Minnesota, Nebraska, Kansas, and the Dakotas. One swarm was said to be 110 miles wide and 1,800 miles long. That’s as long as the whole east coast of the U.S.

    The bugs didn’t sting like bees. They didn’t spread diseases like mosquitoes. They weren’t poisonous like black widow spiders. But they ate the crops and food that people needed to survive. 

    The kind of grasshopper that attacked the Ingalls family was called a Rocky Mountain locust. These locusts thrived in dry weather.

    The prairie had been going through a long drought, which created ideal conditions for the locusts to multiply—and to form gigantic swarms.

    In the late 1800s, locust swarms destroyed farms in Minnesota, Nebraska, Kansas, and the Dakotas. One swarm in 1875 was reported to be 110 miles wide and 1,800 miles long—as long as the entire east coast of the United States.

    The insects didn’t sting like bees or spread diseases like mosquitoes. They weren’t poisonous like black widow spiders. But the locusts ate the crops and food that people needed to survive. They mowed down fields of wheat, and they devoured vegetables and fruit. 

    The Ingalls family watched in horror as the locusts covered their wheat fields. Laura’s parents lit fires in the fields to drive the insects away. They banged on pots. They hit the wheat stalks with sticks. 

    Nothing worked. The locusts stuck like glue. By the next morning, the field had been chewed down to nothing. The locusts had even eaten the vegetables in the family’s garden.

    The Ingalls family earned a living by selling their crops. But their crops had been destroyed. They had no way to make money—and no vegetables to eat. 

    How would the family survive?

    Laura’s family watched in horror as the bugs covered their wheat fields. Laura’s mom and dad lit fires to drive the bugs away. They banged on pots. They hit the wheat stalks with sticks.

    Nothing worked. The bugs stayed. By the next morning, the field had been chewed down to nothing. The bugs had even eaten the vegetables in the garden.

    Laura’s family earned a living by selling their crops. Now their crops were gone. They had no way to make money. And they had no vegetables to eat.

    How would they survive?

    The Ingalls family watched, horrified, as the locusts covered their wheat fields. Laura’s parents lit fires in the fields to drive the insects away. They banged on pots and smacked the wheat stalks with sticks.

    Nothing worked. The locusts stuck like glue. By the next morning, the field had been chewed down to nothing. The locusts had even eaten the vegetables in the family’s garden.

    The Ingalls family earned a living by selling their crops. But with their farm destroyed by locusts, they had no way to earn money—and no vegetables to eat.

    How would the family survive?

    The horror continued even after the insects died. Dead locusts filled up wells and ponds. The water was too foul to drink. The bugs’ dead bodies covered the ground and gave off an odor. The smell stayed for weeks. 

    Newspapers across the U.S. told stories of starving families and ruined towns. People donated supplies for “grasshopper victims.” 

    State governments gave out money to families like the Ingallses—but it wasn’t enough. Laura and her family lost their wheat crop two summers in a row. They finally left their farm in Minnesota and moved to Iowa.

    Even after the bugs died, the problems did not stop. Dead bugs filled up wells and ponds. The water was too foul to drink. The dead bugs also smelled bad.

    Newspapers told stories of starving families and ruined towns. People donated supplies for “grasshopper victims.”

    The government gave money to families like Laura’s. But it was not enough. Laura’s family lost their wheat crop two summers in a row. They finally left their farm in Minnesota. They moved to Iowa.

    The horror continued even after the insects died. Dead locusts filled up wells and ponds, making the water too foul to drink. The bugs’ dead bodies covered the ground and gave off a disgusting odor that hung in the air for weeks.

    Newspapers across America reported stories of starving families and ruined towns, and people donated supplies for “grasshopper victims.”

    State governments distributed money to families like the Ingallses, but it wasn’t enough. After losing their wheat crop two summers in a row, Laura and her family abandoned their Minnesota farm and relocated to Iowa.

    In the late 1890s, the grasshopper attacks finally stopped. The Rocky Mountain locust began to die out. But why?

    As more settlers came to the prairie, they tore up grass to plant crops. The settlers brought in cattle, which ate plants. Without the grass and other plants, the locusts couldn’t survive.

    The swarms of the 1800s have faded from memory. But one author wrote about them in a book called On the Banks of Plum Creek. The book is part of the famous Little House series. It is fiction. But it is based on the author’s true experiences growing up as a pioneer on America’s prairie. 

    That author is Laura Ingalls Wilder—the little girl who watched the locust cloud arrive in 1875.

    She lived to be 90 years old. And she never forgot the terror of the day the grasshoppers attacked her family’s farm. 

    In the late 1890s, the locust attacks stopped. The Rocky Mountain locust began to die out. But why?

    More settlers came to the prairie. They tore up grass to plant crops. And they brought in cattle, which ate plants. Without the grass and other plants, the locusts could not survive.

    The swarms of the 1800s have faded from memory. But one author wrote about them in a book. The book is called On the Banks of Plum Creek. It’s part of the famous Little House series. The book is fiction. But it’s based on the author’s real life as a pioneer.

    That author is Laura Ingalls Wilder, the same girl who watched the locust cloud arrive in 1875.

    She lived to be 90. And she never forgot the day the grasshoppers attacked her family’s farm.

    In the late 1890s, the grasshopper attacks finally stopped. The Rocky Mountain locust began to die out. But why?

    As more settlers came to the prairie, they tore up grass to plant crops. The settlers also brought in cattle, which ate plants. Without the grass and other plants, the locusts couldn’t survive.

    The swarms of the 1800s have faded from memory. But one author wrote about them in a book called On the Banks of Plum Creek. The book is part of the famous Little House series. It’s fiction, but it’s based on the author’s true experiences growing up as a pioneer on America’s prairie.

    That author is Laura Ingalls Wilder—the little girl who watched the locust cloud arrive in 1875.

    She lived to be 90 years old, and she never forgot the terror of the day the grasshoppers attacked her family’s farm.