y on its own resources for all its needs. March came raging in like
a lion. All the rain turned to snow and the wind to a polar blast as the
one furious blizzard of that season fell upon the plains and for many
hours threshed the snow-covered land.

On the night before the coming of the blizzard the light did not go out in
the Aydelot cabin. And while the wind and rain without raved at door and
window, a faint little cry within told that a new life had come to the
world, a baby girl born in the midst of the storm. Morning brought no
check to the furious elements. And Asher, who had fought in the front line
at Antietam, had forced his way through a storm of Indian arrows out of a
death-trap in the foothills of the Rockies, had ministered to men on the
plains dying of the Asiatic plague, and had bound up the wounds of men who
returned to the battle again, found a new form of heroism that morning in
his own little cabin--the heroism of motherhood.

"You must go for help, Asher," Virginia said, smiling bravely. "Leave the
baby beside me here. We'll wait till you come back. Little Sweetheart, you
are welcome, if you did come with the storm, a little before you were
expected." The young mother looked fondly at the tiny face beside her.

"I can't leave you alone, Virgie," Asher insisted.

"But you must." Virginia's voice was full of courage. "You can go as far
as Pryor Gaines' and send him on for you. Little daughter and I will be
all right till you come back."

So Asher left her.

Pryor Gaines was waterbound across Grass River. Of the three women living
east of the stream one was sick abed, one was kept at home with a sick
husband, and the third had gone with her husband to Wykerton for supplies
and was stormstaid somewhere along the Sunflower Trail.

"I must go for Jim. Any neighborhood is blessed that has a few
good-hearted unmarried folks in it," Asher thought as he braced himself
against the driving rain and hurried away.

When he reached home again the fire was low, the house was very quiet, and
Virginia's face was white against her pillow.

"Our little daughter is asleep," she said, and turning away she seemed not
to hear her husband's voice assuring her that Jim would bring the doctor
as soon as possible.

The blizzard was just beginning in the early evening when Jim Shirley
fairly blew down the trail from the north. He slipped into the kitchen and
passed quietly to the next room. Asher was bending over his w