The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1892-04-09
DAKOTA WEATHER.
From the Atlantic Monthly.

From the Atlantic Monthly
1t matters little how hot or cold, wet or
dry, climate is, the people who live in the
country are ready to claim many advantages
for the place which they have chosen for
their home. The solitary exception to this
statement is Dakota. During a residence
there of fourteen months-parts Of two
winters and one sUmmer-BOt a word was
said in my hearing on the subject of the
climate, except to relate some rev horror
of it,
The Indians, it was averred, went to Da-
kota because they thought that no white
man would follow them to such place.
The bitterness of the cold of the winters,
the torrid heat of the summers, the we'll
nigh ceaseless wind, the violent storms of
thunder and lightning and rain, the long
drouths, the dust-storms, the hailstOrms,
must be experienced to be appreciated,
EVERYTHING seems to be on an excessive
scale in Dakota. The velocity of the wind
when the mercury is standing at 400 below
zero, if one is out in it, will take the ami
NAL heat out of one in few minutes No
amount of clothing can prevent intense suf-
fering. One feels as if one had forgotten
to put on clothes, and were encountering
that cruel wind naked. Perhaps the wind
is the worst feature of the climate. When
it is blowing on a cold night, people who
live out on the prairies frequently do not
90 to bed. They sit all night as close as
they can to a red-hOt stove. Even then
the side that is turned from the stove is
cold.
One day, when the mercury was 250 be-
low zero, and the wind was high, the ther-
mometer where l sat by the stove indicated
115o above zero; and, eight feet off, the
thermometer on the bureau stood at 200
"a difference of 95o. 1t was necessary
on winter nights to get up at least once to
put wood in the stove; but in what was
called bad weather this had to be done
several times during the night. OF course
everything freezes-the eggs within few
feet of the hot stove, the kerosene oil in
the corner, the cabbages and turnips and
potatoes and meat in the hole in the ground
under the house. Every night an iron
bucket of live Goals is put down into this
six-foot hole, to save part of the winter
stores from being destroyed by freezing.
One hears that people take things into
their beds with them when they want to
save them, for it will not do to let things
run out in winter. 1t would be impossible
to transport many of them across the prai-
ries, as they would be frozen. Ali win
dows and all unnecessary doors are nailed
up and ckinked as closely as possible before
this weather sets in; an embankment of
earth is thrown up around the house to
keep the wind from coming up under the
floor; four or five burrows are run with a
plow around the house at sufficient dis
tance to save it from prairie fires, and wood
for a two weeks siege, when going out of
doors will be we'll nigh uncomfortable, is
piled high against the wall and stored un-
der the bed and wherever space can be
found. In this weather, if one winks out
of doors, the eyelashes freeze to the cheek,
and have to be thawed out before the eyes
can be opened.
One hears that many women become in
sane in Dakota. Some say it is the lonely
life; but lives as lonely are borne cheerfully
elsewhere. My theory is that insanity is
caused by the wind, which intensifies the
loneliness. The moaning and wailing, the
lashing and swishing, the rushing and roar
ing, the bowling and surging Of the wind
go on night and day for weeks at a time,
without moments lull.- 1t becomes mad
dening. One feels as if it were beating on
the brain. One longs for even one mo-
nent of rest from that eternal sound that
seems to fill the universe, It is in vain to
put ones fingers in ones ears, for the tim
bers of the little house are creaking; the
house itself is swaying on its foundations.
1t is not women alone who are depressed
by some influence in Dakota. This infu-
ence, whatever it may be, seems to extend
to the lower orders Of creation, also We
had heard that no hen oackled there. This
was true of my sisters and mine, but | re-
call hearing little cackling at the agency
There the force of the wind was broken by
the stockade and the buildings. A friend
at the agency made us present of hand
some cock, and we heard his cheerful an
nouncement, on the morning after his ar
rival, that he was the cock of the roost
We eajoyed the crow from our point of
of vantage in bed 1t was the pleasaptest
and most homelike sound that had greeted
our ears for some time. But it did not last.
That day he must have reconsidered things,
At any rate, he did not crow the next
morning, nor the next, nor ever again, ex-
cept on one or two rare occasions, when for
brief moment he forgot he had resolved
that there was nothing in this world worth
his while to crow about. Gradually he
Joined the army of the silent ones. No
shrill clarion was heard in that henhouse
thenceforth. Our cocks danes felt as he
did about life, and took it as s'au grand
seriepx." What. was there in laying an
egg that was worth making fuss about ?
So, when they laid an egg, they walked si-
leutly from the nest. Not a CHEEKY note
was heard on that subject or any other from
them except very occasionly faint chirp
as they stepped about looking for food.