we stopped to untie them. They would not go far
from shelter.

Naturally the fence posts were much too long to go into the stove, and
we had no way of chopping them up. So we lifted up a cap of the two-hole
stove and stuck one end of a post into the fire, propped the other end
up against the counter, and fed the fire by automatic control. When one
post burned down to the end, we stuck in another. It seemed to us that
they burned awfully fast, and that the store was getting colder and
colder. We put on our heavy coats for warmth and finally our overshoes.

Storm or no storm, however, _The Wand_ had to be printed. We pulled the
type-case into the store, close to the stove. In those heavy coats and
overshoes we went to work on the newspaper--and that issue was one of
the best we ever published. In those two long nights, shut off from all
the world, we talked and planned. We dared not take the risk of going to
bed. If we should sleep and let the fire go out, we were apt to freeze,
so we huddled around the stove, punching fence posts down into the fire,
watching the blaze flicker.

At least there was time to look ahead, time to think, time to weigh what
we had done and what we wanted to do. So that week _The Wand_ came out
with ideas for cooperative action that were an innovation in the
development of new lands, a banded strength for the homesteader's
protection. It seemed logical and simple and inevitable to me then--as
it does now. "Banded together as friends"--the Indian meaning of
Lakota--was the underlying theme of what I wanted to tell the
homesteaders. The strength and the potentialities of one settler counted
for little, but--banded together!

Our enthusiasm in planning and talking carried us through most of that
day. But toward evening there were more immediate problems. It began to
turn bitter cold. The very air was freezing up. It was no longer
snowing, but the wind had picked up the snow and whirled it over the
prairie into high drifts that in places covered up the barbed-wire
fences against which it piled.

And under the piling snow our fuel lay buried; a long windrow drift had
piled high between the posts and the shop. And the shop was growing
colder and colder. Even with the heavy coats and overshoes we stamped
our feet to keep out the chill and huddled over the dying fire. It would
soon be freezing cold in the store, as cold as the icy shack which we
had abandoned. No wonder people worshiped fire!

The