A few minutes after one o'clock
No sooner , however , had I raised the latch of the waiting-room door than the fierce wind dashed it against me with great force , while the huge snow-drift which had gathered against it fell upon me , almost burying me out of sight . Laughingly my companion pulled me from under the chilly and unwelcome covering . I returned once more to the operating room , in a more contented frame of mind , and with a keener appreciation of the comfortable temperature within . A few minutes after one o'clock , the telegraph instrument , which had been silent for some time , suddenly woke to life and commenced imperiously ticking the call of our station . My friend answered , and received from the dispatcher at Winnipeg a crossing order for a west-bound passenger train and an east-bound engine . Our station signal was displayed , and once more we commenced our weary wait for the two iron horses , which were ploughing their way across the wild prairie to meet and cross each other at our station , and then continue their wild journey . Two o'clock .