text: "Let's take the day off and go huntin', Paulie," Grit said the next morning.
  
  "Really?" Paulie was delighted. "Okay, you can use your Sharps, and I'll use my Winchester."
  
  "Fair enough," Grit said. "I'll buy myself a new Winchester next time we go to Fort Randall or Fort Sully. I feel naked without a lever-action rifle next to me when I'm workin' in the woods."
  
  "No problems yet, and we been here almost six months," Paulie said.
  
  "Yeah, but best be prepared," Grit said.
  
  They ate a breakfast of hotcakes, grits, bacon and coffee with Borden's condensed milk and a little chunk of sugar. When they'd cleaned up, they stepped outside into the crisp morning air. The trees were losing their leaves quickly now, and they closed and locked the door, saddled their horses and rode north away from the river valley and up onto the prairie.
  
  It was a beautiful day, and it seemed as if they could see forever across the grassy prairie. They'd ridden about an hour north when Paulie pointed and said, "Look, is that a house over there?"
  
  "Judging by the smoke from the stove pipe, I'd say yes," Grit said. "Let's ride by and see who lives there."
  
  When they arrived at the little sod house, which had been dug into the side of a hill, there was a man turning up the brown prairie soil with a plow and two mules. When he got to the end of the row, he stopped, wiped his hands on his pants and said, "Howdy, what can I do for ya?" He had a strong accent which sounded like Swedish or maybe Norwegian.
  
  "We're out doing some huntin'," Grit said. "We live about an hour south near the river, and we just wanted to get acquainted."
  
  "I'm Leif Knudsen, and this is my wife, Inga, and our daughter, Astrid."
  
  "Pleased to meet all of you. I'm Grit Milburn, and this is Paulie Samson."
  
  "Please step down," Inga said. "We seldom see anyone out here."
  
  "We're woodcutters," Paulie said. "How old is Astrid?"
  
  "She's two," Inga said.
  
  "Winter's comin' on," Grit said. "It's kinda late to be plantin' crops, isn't it?"
  
  "A little late, but we'll have a nice crop of wheat next summer if all goes well," Leif said.
  
  "How're you gonna stay warm this winter?" Grit asked.
  
  "By jingo, I have to start cuttin' firewood," Leif said. "There's not enough hours in the day, but we do have a nice little grove of trees at the back of our land that I can cut down. Soon's the plowin's done, I'll be cuttin' wood."
  
  "Do you have sufficient food for the winter?" Grit asked.
  
  "We've got some stored, and I'll be doin' some hunting," Leif said.
  
  "Well, we're an hour south," Grit said. "We'd be glad to help any way we can. Just let us know."
  
  Their visit was short and concerning for both men as they rode away. Paulie said, "The man's crazy. He and his family will freeze to death and starve."
  
  "You're right," Grit said. "We gotta help or they'll die."
  
  "How?" Paulie asked.
  
  "When we get back, I'll load up the wagon with as much wood as our horses can pull, and we'll deliver a load, but that won't be nearly enough."
  
  "No, it won't," Paulie said. "How many loads will be enough?"
  
  "I don't know," Grit said. "And where's he gonna put the mules?"
  
  "Yeah, they'll freeze to death out in the open," Paulie said. "And what's he gonna feed 'em?"