On the plains, winter storms can take a heavy toll of cattle.
The temperature drops below zero. Freezing rain and howling winds whip across
the prairie. Snow piles into drifts. In the maelstrom, some cattle, I’m told,
turn their backs to the icy blasts and slowly drift downwind, finally coming to
a boundary fence barring their way. There they pile against it and many die.
But other cattle react differently. They head into the wind, slowly working
their way forward against it until they come to a fence. Here they stand, shoulder
to shoulder, facing the storm. "We ‘most always find them alive and
well," said an old cowboy. "That’s the greatest lesson I ever learned
on the prairie: to attack difficulties head-on and not turn and run."
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