The Last of the Plainsmen 



I wrapped a blanket round my head and hid behind 

 a sage bush. The wind, carrying the sand, made a 

 strange hollow roar. All was enveloped in a weird 

 yellow opacity. The sand seeped through the sage 

 bush and swept by with a soft, rustling sound, not 

 unlike the wind in the rye. From time to time I 

 raised a corner of my blanket and peeped out. 

 Where my feet had stretched was an enormous mound 

 of sand. I felt the blanket, weighted down, slowly 

 settle over me. 



Suddenly as it had come, the sandstorm passed. 

 It left a changed world for us. The trail was cov 

 ered; the wheels hub-deep in sand; the horses, walk 

 ing sand dunes. I could not close my teeth without 

 grating harshly on sand. 



We journeyed onward, and passed long lines of 

 petrified trees, some a hundred feet in length, lying 

 as they had fallen, thousands of years before. White 

 ants crawled among the ruins. Slowly climbing the 

 sandy trail, we circled a great red bluff with jagged 

 peaks, that had seemed an interminable obstacle. A 

 scant growth of cedar and sage again made its 

 appearance. Here we halted to pass another night. 

 Under a cedar I heard the plaintive, piteous bleat of 

 an animal. I searched, and presently^ found a little 

 black and white lamb, scarcely able to stand. It 



came readily to me, and I carried it to the wagon. 



22 



