r eyes,
dashed ahead into the cloud of blinding, stinging snow. Major Pierce
had expected to go straight to a side door of the store, but the awful
strength of the wind and snow pushed them over, and they struck a corner
of the fence farthest away--in fact, they would have missed the fence
also if Mrs. Elmer's fur cape had not caught on one of the pickets, and
gone out on the plains to certain death. Bright lights had been placed
in the store windows, but not one had they seen. These storms kill so
many range cattle, but the most destructive of all is a freeze after a
chinook, that covers the ground with ice so it is impossible for them
to get to the grass. At such times the poor animals suffer cruelly. We
often hear them lowing, sometimes for days, and can easily imagine that
we see the starving beasts wandering on and on, ever in search of an
uncovered bit of grass. The lowing of hundreds of cattle on a cold
winter night is the most horrible sound one can imagine.

Cold as it is, I ride Bettie almost every day, but only on the high
ground where the snow has been blown off. We are a funny sight sometimes
when we come in--Bettie's head, neck, and chest white with her frozen
breath, icicles two or three inches long hanging from each side of her
chin, and my fur collar and cap white also. I wear a sealskin cap with
broad ear tabs, long sealskin gauntlets that keep my hands and arms
warm, and high leggings and moccasins of beaver, but with the fur
inside, which makes them much warmer. A tight chamois skin waist
underneath my cadet-cloth habit and a broad fur collar completes a
riding costume that keeps me warm without being bungling. I found a
sealskin coat too warm and heavy.

No one will ride now and they do not know what fine exercise they are
missing. And I am sure that Bettie is glad to get her blood warm once
during the twenty-four hours. Friends kindly tell me that some day I
will be found frozen out on the plains, and that the frisky Bettie
will kill me, and so on. I ride too fast to feel the cold, and Bettie I
enjoy--all but the airs she assumes inside the post. Our house is near
the center of the officers' line, and no matter which way I go or what
I do, that little beast can never be made to walk one step until we get
out on the road, but insists upon going sideways, tossing her head,
and giving little rears. It looks so affected and makes me feel very
foolish, particularly since Mrs. Conger said to me the othe