The Loup Fork Beds 121 



The whole country north of Buffalo was without 

 human habitation until we reached the old man's 

 cabin. On our way there, as we were driving one 

 sultry day down the long slope to the south branch 

 of the Soloman, we chanced to look behind us, and 

 as high as the eye could reach, the air was as black 

 as midnight with flying dust, dry grass, and buffalo 

 chips. Experience had taught us what all this 

 meant. Will Brouse laid the whip to the ponies, but 

 they did not need it. They, too, had taken fright, 

 and tore down the hill at breakneck speed. On 

 reaching the valley, we came upon a perpendicular 

 bluff, over twenty feet high, impinging on the level 

 flat, and Will swung the horses under its protecting 

 shelter. We sprang out, and while one of us un- 

 hitched and tied the horses, the rest caught hold of 

 the wagon and held it down. In an instant all was 

 dark, while the rush of a mighty wind swept over 

 us with a terrible roar and passed on, leaving a calm 

 in its wake. As we followed its trail along the 

 river, we found large trees twisted off at the stump 

 or broken to pieces, their branches scattered like 

 straws. 



About sundown one evening, the old man pointed 

 out, in a side draw of the middle fork of the Sappa, 

 his mastodon. I sprang from the wagon, shouting, 

 " It's a monster turtle ! " And so it proved to be, a 

 great land turtle, over thirty inches long, twenty- 



