The weather is
delightful - sunny and very warm.
I was prevented from finishing this the other day by the coming of a
dozen or more Arapahoe Indians, but as the mail does not go north
until to-morrow morning, I can tell you of the more than busy time we
have had since then.
For two or three days the weather had been unseasonably warm - almost
like summer - and one evening it was not only hot, but so sultry one
wondered where all the air had gone. About midnight, however, a
terrific wind came up, cold and piercing, and very soon snow began to
fall, and then we knew that we were having a "Texas norther," a storm
that is feared by all old frontiersmen. Of course we were perfectly
safe from the wind, for only a cyclone could tear down these thick
walls of sand, but the snow sifted in every place - between the logs of
the inner wall, around the windows - and almost buried us. And the cold
became intense.
In the morning the logs of that entire wall from top to bottom, were
white inside with snow, and looked like a forest in the far North. The
floor was covered with snow, and so was the foot of the bed!
