The howling wind carried off anything less than thirty pounds. The wagon covers all blew off, sending our supplies over twenty feet away. I was scared, so I grabbed Cheyenne and Caroline and took shelter under the wagon. The wagon blew over, so we hid behind the overturned wagon and used it like a wind break. The storm lasted for an hour like this. Then, the hail started falling from above us. The balls of ice hit the ground and shattered into a million pieces. When the hail stopped falling and the wind stopped blowing, the train was in ruins. All but Pat’s wagon blew over. The damage seemed catastrophic, but the looks were deceiving. Once the wagons were all back on four wheels, nothing was really broken. We were lucky, because people have died in storms less aggressive than this. The days following the storm were uneventful. But on the twelfth the day, we finally arrived in Fort Kearney. It's name is Fort Kearney, but it is little more than a group of sod buildings. We stopped for two days, and I went into the trading post to look at some supplies. I saw stationary, and I decided to write to Jackson. I told him that I would soon see him in Oregon, and that I wished him luck in his new life. I also decided to get two tires replaced after the storm. They gave me a deal where I got a free spare