"I've read about those night winds on the plains," said Jack, "and
we'll look out for 'em in the future. We'll put an anchor on
Snoozer at least."

This intelligent animal had not forgotten his night's experience,
and stuck closely in the wagon, where he even insisted on taking
his breakfast.

The road we were following was gradually drawing closer to the
Niobrara, and we began to see scattering pine-trees, stunted and
broken, along the heads of the canyons or ravines leading down to
the river. There was less sand, and we made better progress. The
country was but little settled, and game was more plentiful. We got
two or three grouse. We went into camp at night by the head of
what appeared to be a large canyon, under a tempest-tossed old
pine-tree, through which the wind constantly sighed. There was no
water, but we counted on getting it down the canyon. A man went by
on horseback, driving some cattle, who told us that we could find a
spring down about half a mile.

"Can we get any hay down there?" I asked him. "We're out of feed
for the horses, and the grass seems pretty poor here."

"Down a mile beyond the spring I have a dozen stacks," answered the
man, "and you're welcome to all you can bring up on your pony.
Just go down and help yourselves."

We thanked him and he went on. As soon as we could we started
down. It was beginning to get dark, and grew darker rapidly as we