the young ladies in unqualified praise of the music sometimes discoursed in our camp, whereupon the Doctor at once invited us to come over that evening and bring any noise-producing instruments that we might boast. With some proper if not necessary apology for the undeserved compliment from our companion, we accepted the invitation, stating that we should come, not indeed in hope of contributing anything of value to the music, but in the pleasant expectation of meeting Mrs. Brown and also of gaining more knowledge from the Doctor, who appeared to be a man from whom we might learn very much, as he seemed to be well informed in botany and geology. Incidentally (!) we hoped to meet the young ladies again.
The regular evening chores having been performed, the boys proceeded to shave, and otherwise to prepare for the evening call. The bottom of their "pants" remained tucked in their long-topped boots, but shoeblacking was a luxury not to be obtained. Flannel shirts without coats and waistcoats were regarded as costume de rigueur for the place and occasion. Thus attired we sauntered over to the Browns just as the sun was sinking in the west. The young ladies had put some fresh ribbons in their hair, and were attractively dressed for such an al fresco gathering. The wagon seat was placed upon the ground and along with some boxes and a couple of camp chairs served us admirably. The preparations for the evening entertainment have been described in such detail solely that the events of the coming night may be better understood.
We returned to our camp at a seasonable hour. The air of the early evening had been unusually soft and still. Fred having already pitched his little tent, had turned into it with Ben for sleep, while I sought an eligible spot on the open ground, and rolled up in my blankets. Not long after midnight Paul, who was on guard, was startled by a vivid flash of lightning in the southwest. The sleepers were aroused, and peering out from their blankets saw signs of an approaching storm, for the fleecy clouds, which often presage the coming tempest were rolling in a threatening manner. It was thought prudent at once to drive the stakes of the tent more firmly, and tie down the wagon covers; this done we watched the rising clouds. We did not wait long, for hardly ten minutes had passed when the squall suddenly burst upon us with great fury, accompanied with a deluge of driving rain. The wagon covers creaked, and in two or three minutes the little tent was lifted and overturned. The horses picketed near-by were seen to run hither and thither in alarm, and some of them broke away. In the midst of the severest gust, a woman's voice in a tone indicating great alarm, came from the direction of the Doctor's camp.
"They are in trouble over at the Browns," said one.
"And why not?" was the reply, as the tempest shrieked and the driving rain poured upon us. We could now do no good service where we were and therefore started rapidly in the direction of the Browns' tent, shouting, so as to be heard above the roar of the storm, that we were coming. Sure enough the family had been sleeping in their large wall tent, and the squall had lifted it into the air, leaving it flapping in the wind and held by one tent pin.
Everything that had been within it was drenched with rain. The Browns were soaked and we were soaked, but what was worse, the gale had carried away upon its wings many light articles likely to be much needed in the morning. They had not arranged their wagons for sleeping, as we had arranged ours, having relied upon their tents for such purposes. There they stood helpless in the driving storm, each of the ladies wrapped in such blanket or covering as she happened to snatch when the tent was lifted from over their heads.
Each flash of lightning revealed for an instant the pitiable condition in which they were left. But they had doubtless passed through even greater trials than this in their exile from their old Kentucky home during the Civil War. When satisfied that the worst had passed, they forced a laugh in contemplating their ridiculous situation, and proposed to climb into their wagon and await the dawn. Mrs. Brown suggested that possibly they had a few dry articles there, but in the saturated condition in which they all were, with the water running down their wrappings, they would deluge everything in the wagon. We then informed the Doctor that Uncle Simeon Cobb, one of our party whom he had already seen, and a fine old gentleman, on a slight cessation of the storm would cheerfully migrate to another wagon from his own, an arrangement that would afford all the ladies fair protection until morning. The Doctor, remarking that this reminded him of some phases of his life in the Confederate Army, gratefully accepted the offer. He decided to go with us, and then return to watch out the night and protect the family effects as best he could. The storm had nearly passed when the little party slowly made its way over the wet plain through the darkness to the Deacon's wagon, where Uncle Simeon was safe and dry in his double-covered prairie schooner. He had heard the crashing of the thunder and the shrieking of the gale, and readily comprehended the situation on a brief explanation. His matches and lantern enabled him to light his apartment; and in the course of time he donned his waterproof, and came forth amid the ladies' expressions of deepest regret that they had been compelled to disturb his comfort. But they were thankful for a harbor of refuge.
It was a great involuntary shower bath they had taken. One end of the Deacon's wagon was wet in the morning. When the day began to dawn, the sky was clear and bright. The Doctor then made many trips between the two camps. The dry clothes of the ladies which he excavated from the trunks in their wagon were transported in chunks, here a little and there a little, but in his clumsiness and ignorance of woman's requirements he seemed unable to produce the right articles. There were too many of one kind of garment or too few of another to clothe his family fully, in the conventional manner. As he tucked a tight bundle of white or colored goods under the Deacon's wagon cover, after but a moment of delay there came back through the canvas many sounds of distress indicating the conviction that everything in the trunks was topsy-turvy and that garments were strung along his entire pathway. It was fully two hours before a full complement of apparel had been transported the half mile between the camps, so that the feminine members of the Brown family were able to emerge from under the wagon cover. Scattered around in the wagon there remained for future rescue many mysterious garments, diaphanous or bifurcated, all entirely out of place in the Deacon's apartment, but possibly of some use in the future society life in Denver. When the sun had dried the surface of the ground, these and some others found elsewhere were collected, and the girls now arrayed in town clothes, having filed back to their camp soon appeared to be taking an inventory of what are conveniently termed dry-goods but which were now very wet. In the meantime the boys, jumping upon horses, rode in the direction taken by the storm; and here and there, caught upon stunted grubs or bushes, were found various articles. One of the straw hats had been carried fully two miles. During the forenoon both camps had the appearance of laundry establishments, a multitude of garments being spread out to dry in the sun.
CHAPTER VIII
Jack Morrow's Ranch
ON a following night we camped on what for the lack of a better word I would term the shore of the so-called Plum Creek. There was naught in it of what is generally regarded as the chief characteristic of a creek, to-wit, water; but it had one feature that is proper for a creek, and that was a gully, which we regarded as unnecessarily deep, but which was absolutely dry. I was informed, no plums have ever been known to grow on its treeless margins. I remember, indeed, having read in later Nebraska agricultural reports that twenty varieties of wild plums are native to the territory, but that they are so similar one to another that none but an expert can distinguish or classify them. They may grow on the river islands, though I observed none on our course.
Near the waterless creek was a newly built stage station, known also as Plum Creek. The station formerly on its site had been destroyed by the Indians, one in each of the two preceding years. Such was the history of nearly all the stations along the Platte.
A few miles west of Plum Creek, we became satisfied that somewhere along there we should cross the one-hundredth meridian, which had figured prominently in the literature of the day as approximately defining the border of the American desert, beyond which undefined line there was no hope for the agriculturist. Fremont had described the country as "a vast, arid desert, impregnated with salts and alkali."
Mr. Holton, in an address before the Scientific Club in Topeka, as late as the year 1880, is reported to have said that, "Commencing at the Rocky Mountains and extending eastward toward the Missouri, and from the Gulf of Mexico to the Northwestern part of the United States, lay the great American desert of thirty years ago," and, he added, "the geographies of that day were right."
As