S. Statler, when quite new to the country, got lost from his hunting party, on the open prairie in Howard township. He was approached by an Indian on horseback armed, and of serious and formidable aspect. There was neither tree nor habitation in sight, and the Pennsylvania " tender-foot" was greatly relieved when he learned that old Johnny Green preferred his tobacco to his scalp.
In the summer of 1855 the town of Nevada was visited by a windstorm, which tossed things about and made quite a commotion in the straggling village. It came in the night. The only house that was wrecked was that of Dr. Kellogg. The roof was blown off, some of the upper tiers of logs were displaced, and the family escaped in dishabille to the neighboring hotel. The building was that known as the old Barndollar House, on Block 4. It had no protection toward the northwest, and was yet unfinished. Though not destructive, the scare served to make many persons nervous for a time.
The severity of the cyclone which nearly destroyed the village of Camanche thirty years ago, and whose track extended from Fort Dodge to a considerable distance beyond the Mississippi River, and was everywhere marked by devastation, widely advertised the State as a land of storms. Many people in other States came to look upon a residence for themselves and friends in Iowa with dread on this account. The records show that this is not well founded, and that violent and abnormal atmospheric disturbances have occurred through a long series of years no more frequently in Iowa than in other States. It must surely be within the memory of all that for the past three years the State has been to such an extent exempt from storms, floods, cloudbursts, tornadoes, cyclones and similar phenomena as to attract much attention, and to cause comparison to be made with other sections, in nearly every direction. This seems but a proper explanation to make in narrating the conditions in 1882. On Saturday evening, April 8, of that year, in the western part of the county, a terrible wind swept a narrow strip from south to north. It might rather be called a violent gale than a storm. Its duration at any one point was quite brief, but in those moments its violence was such as to do considerable damage over a limited area. Its force seemed to culminate in the vicinity of the Agricultural College. It wrecked the house of Jim Keltner, near Worrell's Grove. It partially struck the house of Dan McCarthy as it passed northward, shaking it up so as to break the plastering and otherwise damage it. Just across the road to the west, was the smaller residence of Willard F. McCarthy. The young man had recently married, had taken possession of his house on Monday, and was about to have his Saturday evening supper. The gale had so little respect for the circumstances, or any sentiment that might cling around them, as to at once take possession. 'The house was completely demolished, the material removed and the young man and his bride were picked out of the mud and water 300 feet farther north. Neither of them had any marks of contact with a barb-wire fence over which they must have been carried. On the college grounds the building known as " The President's House," then occupied by Prof. Bessey, was somewhat damaged, and the North Hall, then in course of erection, had parts of the wall blown down. A small bridge on the farm was wrecked, the college 'bus was overturned, and a student named Connell was painfully injured. The wind soon after lifted and skipped some thirty miles, coming to the earth again near Gowrie, doing some damage there, also at Lake City.
The circular windstorm which so greatly