The weekly Ottumwa courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1857-1872, 1857-03-12

We knew that for six tedious miles, the DESC
lation of the prairie would not be relieved BY
the presence Of a single house. A cherries
and comfortless waste Of snow extended out
in the gloomy prospective, as far as the eye
could see. The wind, too, which had all day
beer increasing in violence. had not, a. night
approached, abated any Of its fury. 1t ap-
peared no longer to come from the same point
Of the compass, but from all directions. The
snow, driven hither and thither before the
pitiless blast flled densely the entire atmos-
phere, and soon confined our vision 10 few
feet in advance Of the horses.
"I am afraid we shall soon lose the road,
said to my companion, becoming somewhat
alarmed at the prospect before MS; 81 have
been in storms on the prairies, but this ex-
ceeds any thing Of the kind ever witnessed.
II we get lost in this tempest, there is no hope
for as. For miles there is no house on our
road, and believe our best plan is to 60 back
il we cam"
ssI am not decided" answered Mr.. Bridge
man, Gas to the propriety Of returning. We
have come at lesst two miles from the last
house, and now to advance or retreat is about
the same thing. If the horses can keep the
road, we shall soon be out Of darger."
Somewhat assured bv the advice Of Mr..
Bridgeman. we still hurried on in the same di-
rection. oticed that felt more difficulty
than usual in holding the lines. My hands
were well defended by double pair Of heavy
gloves, but still they were suffering from cold.
In spite Of me. the lines would occasionally
slip from my hands, and it would require a
perplexing effort to bring them back to their
proper position. My feet, although shielded
by boots, buffalo shoes, robes and blankets,
were beginning to feel numbed and paralyzed;
and my face protected a, it was by a variety OF
shawis and comforts, was assailed to such an
extent, through every unfor unate aperture by
the drifting and binding snow, that felt my
self in ininent peril Of being frozen. My
friend appeared to be in no better condition
HIS gaiety which had previously cheered the
gloomy way, no longer inspired his spirit
His tongue became instantly and profoundly
silent, and he sat by my side moodily stamp
ing his feet to promote the circulation. Ere.
quently ne would draw his covering more
closely around his face and body. and endeav-
or by every possible means. to defend hims. =
was light and delicate; and having but short
time before been prostrated by serious illness,
he was much less qualified to resist the attacks
of the cold than he would have been under
other circumstances. He belonged, however,
10 the uncomplaining class, and whatever may
have been his sufferings, he seemed determin.
ed to bear them all with the forti,uGe of a
martyr.
The horses, too, became restless and unea-
sy. When the wind was full against them,
bearing down with impetuous violence, they
would turn from the road and, while sno ting
and champing their bits they would endeavor
to make off before the tempest. In some pIa-
ces the snow had drifted so deeply, that it
was almost impossible to recognize the read.
Often was under the necessity of stopping
the horses, and of looking out in the obscurity
for the highway. Outside Of the road, the tall,
nakeS weeds projecting from the surface of
the snow could be seen waving in the angry
blast. The weeds, at length became my only
guide, and if found an open space environed
Oh both sides by these dead and desolate plants
OF the wilderness, was assured tn at we were
on the beaten track. But it was only now and
then that could obtain glimpse of surround
ing objects. All around and overhead, the
snow, moved by opposite forces, was circling
in interminaole confusion, and only when
leaned out with my face in the eddying blast
and with my half blinded eyes pe-ring into
the obscurity beyond, could discern the vague
indications Of trodden road. The more be-
came benumbed with the cold, The more felt
disposed to trust hlind:y to the guidance of
the horses. For few mcmen' relaxed my
permitted the lines to fall over
my knees, and sank back gloomily IN my seat.
VIII looked again in the outer darkness of
the vast prairie, was convinced that We had
stray ed from the road. drew up the horses
and stopped. II was difficult to tell how far
we had diverged from the track, and it was
equally difficult to tell in what direction we
could regain it. In the tempest and in the
darkness we were lost upon the prairie.
My thoughts were directed to Mr.. Bridge
man. His protrac,ed silence startled me-
For many minutes he had not spoken word,
and I had noticed that, for some time he had
not changed his position. spoke to him, but
received no answer. Nothing was heard but
his heavy breathing, mingled with the howl Of
the wrathful tempest. spoke to him again
more loudly than before, but with no greater
success. l turned toward him, dropped the
lines, and shook him with frenz,ed violence
Still there was no evidence Of his animation
save his deep stetorious breathing. l shouted
In his ear with all the strength Of lungs could
summon, but he needed not. imploTed him
to rouse up from his stupor, and called frantic
ally upou his name, but the only response
found came from the swift winged tempest
tina! swept icicily over the plain. Fast bound
in that unnatural sleep which is induced by
exposure to intense cold, he was ~ insensible
to the voice Of friendship, and to the voice ct
the storm around him, as though he had been
reposing in the night Of the sepuleher. It was
fearfully certain that unless some more power
ful means were employed. for his restoration,
nidpiUht uronli 6rd h;pn ;~~, .cl -h in A>oth