Winter on the Plains in 1869

Nook version of vintage magazine article originally published in 1869. Contains 33 Nook pages with 11 illustrations.

Lots of great illustrations seldom seen in the last 140 years.

Read excerpt -

During the winter of 1865-66 not less than ten thousand head of oxen were frozen to death on the three great routes, the Platte, Smoky Hill, and Arkansas. Instances were numerous of trains meeting with the loss of two-thirds of their stock during a single night. This great loss of cattle is not the sum total of the misfortunes which befall the freighter or owner of the train. Sometime must elapse before cattle can be procured to replace those which have been frozen, and the proprietor of the caravan assures us that "during this interval them bull-whackers and train-hands are a eating their cussed heads off four or five times over." This is a rash statement, certainly, for a man to make who knows that the men, having corralled the wagons (that is, arranged them in the form of a circle for the purpose of securing the stock, and affording a means of defense in case of an attack by Indians), have proceeded to get out the well-worn and thoroughly marked decks of cards how much poker or high-low-jack they will play depends on the length of time they are forced to remain. They do not waste the daylight, but improve, at poker, each little shining hour. These patriots would scorn to play a game of draw for unvalued corn. The game must be made interesting in some way, the discovery of which is the great drawback to the enjoyment of their situation. Money they have not, for the bull-whacker - sailor of the great land-ocean as he is - differs not a whit from the genuine salt in the time-honored habit of spending his last "show of color" before leaving the settlements.

They will play "freeze out" poker to see who among them shall hunt the next sack of chips; that is, trudge about kicking up the snow in quest of buffalo chips (bois de vache), to be used as fuel. Which man shall herd the stock; which stand guard. Thus duties become to some extent a gambling property - a bank to be drawn upon "to make things interesting." In this beguiling away of time the bull-whacker learns to “handle the papers" with a dexterity not surpassed by the sharpers who keep the Eldorado’s, Occidentals, Progressives, and other saloons of similar names which disgrace the mushroom towns that seem the fungi of the Great Pacific Railroad.

It is during this season of bitter, penetrating cold that some of the "ladies of the army" learn to appreciate the situation which they have accepted as Mrs. Captain ----. Ladies of refinement and culture frequently accompany their soldier husbands to the newly located frontier posts, where they may oftentimes live month after month in a hut, the lower half of which is a pit dug in a convenient bank, and the low wall built around it is mainly composed of sod cut in squares and laid up with mud. The roof is usually of saplings and earth. Seen from without, this structure is in appearance the veriest hovel that one can imagine. Step within, and you will be amazed at the very cozy aspect of the interior. The walls have been smoothed, then mud-plastered, and finally have been treated to such numerous coats of whitewash that they seem to be plastered. It is a successful counterfeit of a tolerably comfortable room in some decidedly more pretentious structure; though, after all, not quite the place that a person would choose as the abiding-place of his family. It is in such quarters as the one just described that many an officer's wife has lived, and more than one officer's child has been born. Rude as the place may appear to Eastern eyes, this is as warm a nest as the little ones could have during the winter season on the Plains. Young ladies who visit West Point during the summer months may possibly be interested by the announcement that these sod huts are fast being abandoned as officers' quarters, and at nearly all military post