The wail of the wind grew louder as the night advanced, and the constant
peppering of the particles of snow as they were being hurled in never
ceasing volleys against the tar paper with which the outer walls of the
building were covered could be distinctly heard. The old dog came from
his accustomed place beneath the kitchen table, and going behind the
stove seated himself amidst the shoes and stockings that had been placed
there by the children. After sniffing the air he yawned, curled himself
up, tucked his head with a contented sigh, blinked his watery eyes and
was soon snoring contentedly.
Scarcely had he dozed off when suddenly he sprang to a sitting position,
and pricking up his ears, emitted a vicious growl. Gully, fearing that
he would awaken the sleeping children, spoke to him, commanding him to
lay down and be quiet. This order he disregarded, and hurriedly went
into the kitchen, with hair bristling. Suddenly the startling yap of
several coyotes was heard above the din of the wind and pelting snow. A
pack of these skulkers, driven from their lairs by hunger and the biting
cold, had in their desperation overcome their fear of mankind, and
emboldened by numbers, had entered the very dooryard in search of food
or shelter.
Gully, after assuring his now thoroughly frightened wife that they were
harmless, took the lamp, and going to the window pulled aside the
curtain and allowed it to shine on the outside to frighten them away. At
the same time he recalled the fact that little Joe's three chickens were
roosting insecurely in a box in the barn and would fall an easy prey to
the coyotes should they return. Taking his coat and hat, he pulled aside
the canvas covering from the door and slipped out into the storm,
returning in a few moments with the box containing the chickens, and put
them in a place of safety in the kitchen.
Saying nothing to his wife about the fierceness of the blizzard, he
resumed his place by the fire, and wondered if their little shack would
withstand the strain. He thought of his poorly protected horses and how
they must be suffering with the intense cold, and consoled himself with
the thought that he had done all within his power to make them
comfortable, even to covering them with the sadly worn blankets that
could be used to an advantage on his own poorly provided bed. As for
him, he could stay awake and keep the fire burning, and provide warmth
for himself and family. With this thought he suggested to his wife that
she retire, as the hour was growing late, and he would replenish the
fire and follow as soon as he assured himself that all was well.
To this arrangement she protested mildly; she felt that should anything
go wrong her place was by his side. After assuring her that everything
was safe and that he would call her if she was needed, she finally
consented, and going to where the sleeping children lay, placed each
little straggling arm beneath the cover, and after smoothing their
pillows she placed their scattered garments on the foot of the bed for
additional warmth, and preparing her own bed, in which little Joe was
sleeping soundly, she partially undressed and lay down.
Travis Gully, left alone, sat dreaming by the stove, while outside the
blizzard raged and tore at the walls of his home. Its intensity was
increasing, he thought, or it might be that his loneliness made its
varied sounds more audible. Blast after blast was hurled against the
structure, and its every timber creaked and groaned with the strain. The
canvas covering at the door became inflated and collapsed at irregular
intervals, flapping lazily against the door, rising and falling like a
sail amidst errant breezes.
Gully was soon lulled to drowsiness by the warmth of the stove and
varied sounds produced by the gale, and was soon dozing peacefully in
his chair. How long he remained in this position he never knew. He was
suddenly aroused by a call from his wife, who asked as to the cause of
an unusual sound that had awakened her. Gully, thus awakened, noted the
chilliness of the room, and renewed the fire, after which he listened
intently for a repetition of the sound. He had not long to wait. A
sudden fierce blast made the building quiver, and he could distinctly
hear a lashing, tearing sound on the north wall.
Approaching the window to ascertain, if possible, the cause, he noticed
the crunching sound of the trodden snow upon the floor, and felt the
cold wind. He instantly realized what had happened. The wind in its
maddened fury had torn the tar paper from the outer wall and was driving
the finely powdered snow through the cracks and was forming it in
slender drifts across the floor. The break was slight at the time of its
discovery, but each new onslaught increased the size of the rent and was
opening new inlets for the snow and icy wind.
Gully knew full well that to repair the break from the outside would be
impossible, as the paper would be torn from his hands, and to drive
nails in the dark, with numbed fingers, was out of the question. The
havoc that was being wrought by the wind was rapidly growing in extent,
and snow was being driven into the house through new openings at every
gust. Sheets of paper were being torn off and could be heard rattling
away across the snow and ice, being driven before the wind. Prompt
action of some kind was imperative. The bed occupied by little Joe and
his mother being built against the north wall of the room, it was
necessary for them to move, as the snow was pouring in and covering the
bedding, which would soon be made damp by the melting snow.
Joe was placed in the remaining crowded bed with the other children and
Minnie Gully, hastily dressing, came with the broom to sweep back the
advancing snow drifts.
The now vacant bed was hurriedly cleared of its bedding and the frame
work torn from the wall to give access to the openings. Travis Gully
worked feverishly, filling the cracks in the wall with paper and torn
rags, pressing them in securely with a case knife, his wife bringing for
this purpose every available scrap of material. The unused bedding was
tacked up to temporarily stay the advance of the snow and wind. The
melting snow in the room required constant sweeping back, the fire was
kept burning brightly and the battle raged on. Not a complaint or wail
of discouragement escaped either Gully or his wife. With set faces and
determination they fought back the storm, and a smile of satisfaction
greeted each successful effort, as inch by inch the cracks in the wall
were closed and the advance of the enemy checked.
The children having been awakened by the unusual commotion were told to
keep quiet and stay covered up, as everything was all right. Being thus
reassured, they were soon fast asleep. Daylight came with the Gullys
victors, but brought with it no abatement of the storm. The blinding
snow obscured the vision and no idea of the extent of the damage done
could be had.
Exhausted by the loss of sleep and the excitement, Minnie Gully had sunk
into a chair near the stove. Her husband, noticing her tired look, tried
to persuade her to lie down and rest for a while, but this she refused
to do, so throwing an old coat over her shoulders to keep out the chill,
he left her and went out to investigate the condition of his horses.
These he found had fared much better than he had hoped. The drifting
snow had been blown into the sagebrush windbreak and formed a solid and
almost impenetrable mass, behind which the horses, protected by their
blankets, stood in comparative comfort.
The task of digging from his meager supply of hay, now almost covered by
a huge snowdrift, a sufficient amount for their morning feed was a hard
one, but upon its completion he felt fully repaid by the hearty manner
in which it was eaten. Upon his returning to the house he found that his
wife and daughters were up and busily engaged preparing breakfast. They
asked eagerly as to the condition of the horses, and upon being assured
that they had fared splendidly, they laughed and joked over their wild
night's experience.
All through that day and the day following the blizzard raged without
any appreciable lull in its terrific force. No effort was made to repair
the torn paper on the outer wall. The cracks that had been hastily
filled with paper and rags were gone over and made more secure, the
blankets that had been used as a shield in their emergency were taken
down and dried, and the crude bed that had been so ruthlessly torn away
from the north wall was temporarily reconstructed on the opposite side
of the room and held out inviting prospects to Gully, who was now
beginning to feel more keenly the effect of his long vigil of the night
before.
All efforts at accomplishing anything on the outside were abandoned, and
meals were prepared and served at irregular hours. The chickens had
taken kindly to their new quarters, and becoming quite tame, were a
source of amusement to the children. Travis Gully devoted his time to
the care of his horses and providing fuel, the latter occupation
requiring most of his time, as the enormous quantity consumed soon
exhausted the supply near the house, and as more could not be gotten
while the storm raged he was forced to dig out the old railroad ties
from the wind break at the barn and to use them for fuel.
The storm spent its fury on the desert dwellers sometime during the
third night. The lull came while Gully and his family, now inured to its
sound, were soundly sleeping, and when they awoke the following morning
they lay for several moments listening for the roar of the wind; not
hearing it, Gully knew that the long wished for calm had come. Dressing
himself, he kindled the fire, and calling to his wife that the storm had
ceased, he went out to view its work.
The sun had risen, but was unable to penetrate the haze of thin clouds
and snow left floating along the horizon, and looked down on the
desolate scene without warmth. The air was cold and penetrating, huge
piles of snow had drifted behind every stationery object, and in places
where the ground had been cleared of brush and grass the snow was swept
entirely away and the wind had eaten its way into the sandy soil and
scattered it over the adjoining snowdrifts, giving them a yellow, dingy
appearance. Loose sagebrush that had been left piled and ready to burn
had been taken up and blown before the wind until finding lodgement
against some object, had become the base for the formation of additional
snowdrifts that extended in long mounds in the direction the wind had
blown. The whole landscape had a changed and unnatural appearance.
Gully could see the homes of some of his neighbors, but they seemed far
off, and no signs of life were visible except in one or two instances
where streams of thin, blue smoke was issuing from their stove pipes.
Not a horse nor cow could be seen upon the range, and the ever present
hawks that were wont to soar at dizzy heights above the plain were
missing. Noting these changes in detail, Gully wondered if these same
conditions existed throughout the vast area. After feeding his horses,
he returned to the house, where his breakfast awaited him.
A few days after the passing of the storm the sun resumed its
brilliancy, but with little increased warmth; the days were clear and
the nights frosty. No effort was made by Gully toward venturing away
from home. He replenished his supply of fuel and covered the exposed
cracks in the wall of his shack by nailing over them laths. The space
between the cracks where the tar paper had been torn away was left bare,
and the new boards thus exposed glared in the bright sunlight.
During the time they had been forced by the storm to remain in the house
many letters had been written to the home folks, in which a description
of the Christmas tree and the blizzard had been given. These Gully was
anxious to get to the post office, as well as to receive the mail that
he felt sure was awaiting his coming.
Deciding one morning that he would try to reach the village, he set
about arranging his plans to go the following day. To undertake to drive
through he knew would be useless, as the snow was drifted so badly he
could not follow the road. As the village could be plainly seen from his
house and there were no fences to obstruct his way, he thought it best
to take one of his horses on which to pack out some provisions, and go
straight across the wide snow covered plain.
Knowing that the trip, without mishap, would require the whole of the
following day, he decided to start as soon as it was light enough to get
his bearings. All preparations for the trip were made the night before,
the little bundle containing his lunch, the letters that were to be
mailed, and a list of the purchases that were to be made were placed
where they would not be forgotten, and when Gully awoke the following
morning he quietly arose, and after feeding his horses prepared for
himself some strong, black coffee, which was all the breakfast he
required, and without awakening the members of his family started on his
trip.