We had often heard of the _cold winds_ and sudden changes in the atmosphere that all the western country was subject to, but our first _experience_ on this score was while traveling in western Nebraska, on the seventh day of September. The morn was a bright and glorious one, and as we steered our way over the dry desert we remarked that a more beautiful day we had never seen. But about three o’clock the atmosphere began to change and the wind to blow a hurricane. In the course of an hour the soft, warm wind had changed to a howling, wintry storm, and we were compelled to unhitch and picket our horses, and make our bed in the wagon as a retreat from the piercing winds which almost lifted us from the ground. It was almost _impossible_ to keep _warm_ with our light covering, and only after we had torn up every spare cloth we had to stop the cracks in the wagon-bed, we succeeded in rendering ourselves tolerably comfortable. A peep at the horses showed their shivering, and the big blood-hound under the wagon lending his tones to the winds that hurried by, spoke the necessity of sharing our comfort with him. This he gladly accepted, and without anything to eat or drink we lay covered over head and ears until the next day at noon. We then stepped from our asylum to hear the last roar of the hurricane dying away in the distance, and warm ourselves in the sun which had burst its stormy veil. This little fast had keened our appetites, and we eat our dinners with a relish. After turning our horses to graze for awhile, and watering them from the barrel, we resumed our journey over the dry desert, and at length reached the valley of the Platte. This valley is _wide_ and _level_, and is carpeted with the richest pasture. With its cool, purple waters rolling through the thick shade of the little branching cotton-wood trees, piercing the dry, barren plain, bereft of bush or weed, it appears a perfect paradise. Great herds of cattle feed upon the green grass, and every ten or fifteen miles there is a little pole-shanty and picket _corral_ built upon the river-side among the trees; and here stay the cow-men, one at a place, to watch over the cattle. They make a trip after _provisions_ once a year, and of course do their own cooking. They always have the best of _meat_; and this, with biscuits, is about all they eat. It is very often that they do not see a man for several months; and, strange to say, they are used to that way of living and enjoy themselves better than many who live in a land of luxuries, surrounded by mankind, where the din of business is noisy and loud. They have five and six ponies apiece, and their buffalo and antelope chases over the river-hills are as pleasant and exciting to them as though viewed by thousands of people. We had many pleasant chats with them, and many a feast did we have together.