Suddenly, with a roar as of a thousand waterfalls, the wind strengthened and whirled by, scattering the encampment almost to destruction. Wagons were tilted over and lifted bodily, their coverings rent into shreds, and their contents impartially disposed of. The accident was the more frightful because of the impenetrable darkness. The lowing of terrified cattle, and the shouts of the emigrants, mingled with the fury of the gale. There was no means of ascertaining the extent of the damage, except as the party could get together in the darkness. It was impossible to light fires; and for two hours they could not even obtain the light of a lantern. When this was done, they found one poor fellow killed outright by a blow on the temple from some flying object, and another groaning with a broken leg, unable to extricate himself from the wagon which had done the injury.
"Who in thunder's goin' to tend to this job?" muttered Buckskin Joe, as the sufferer was released from his trying position, and his limb examined by several who had gathered to his aid.
"I will," said a calm, decided voice, and looking up, he saw Mr. Carollyn, the gentleman whom he had favored with his morning's observations; he already had the injured leg in his grasp, and was handling it with the skill of a practiced surgeon. With the assistance of those whom he chose to aid him, he soon had the limb set and splintered, and the wounded man lying in comparative comfort upon a mattress of blankets spread behind the shelter of an overturned wagon. The violence of the wind had abated, so that there was nothing more to fear from it, though it still blew too wild and chilly for ease.
While they were yet in attendance upon the sufferer, Mrs. Wright made her way to Buckskin Joe, guided by the glimmer of the lantern.
"I can't find 'Lizabeth," she panted, catching his sleeve.
"Can't find her?—what's happened to her?"
"Wal, I'm sure I've no idea myself. I wish I had. You see the wind upset us; but it didn't do much harm, but to bruise us up considerable. Jem's got a bump on his forrid, and Will's nose is bleedin'—"
"But where in thunder's the gal?"
"Wal, as I was saying, we don't know. You see we all crawled out, after the wagon upset. I'm sure 'Lizabeth got out safe—she helped Minnie out 'fore I went myself; we all kept hold of hands, and stooped down behind the wagon as well as we could to keep the wind from blowin' us clear away. I guess it must have took her, for she didn't answer to our call, and she isn't nowhere very nigh—that's certain. It was awful—the wind was—and there's the children nigh about froze. I wish Timothy had staid to Missouri," and the poor woman's long-tried fortitude gave way, and she began to cry.
The stranger who had been busy about the broken limb, here turned abruptly to her, and asked: