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Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander), 1862-1919

"A Story of the Western Crisis"

"
Dick, in the excitement of battle and flight, had not noticed the
darkening skies and the rising wind. Clouds, heavy and menacing, already
shrouded the whole west. Low thunder was heard far in the distance.
"It's going to be a whopper," said the sergeant, "something like those
big storms they have out on the plains. We must find shelter somewhere,
Mr. Mason, or it will leave us so bedraggled and worn out that for a long
time we won't be able to move on."
Dick agreed with him entirely, but neither yet knew where the shelter was
to be found. They hurried on, looking hopefully for a place. Meanwhile
the storm, its van a continual blaze of lightning and roar of thunder,
rolled up fast from the southwest. Then the lightning ceased for a while
and the skies were almost dark. Dick knew that the rain would come soon,
and, as he looked eagerly for shelter, he saw a clearing in which stood a
small building of logs.
"A cornfield, Sergeant," he exclaimed, "and that I take it is a crib."
"A crib that will soon house more than corn," said the sergeant.


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