On those nights when the water froze in the stables and the wind whistled through the long grasses of the plains like the howling of the banshee, she liked to kill travelers best of all. There weren’t many of them; smart people traveled in spring. But there were enough stage coaches hobbling past her homestead their rubber belt suspensions freezing as their wood frames crept past to keep her in sufficient supply of food till winter. And it was so easily for travelers to befall hardship in the Midwest, who noticed their loss? Food, practically delivered! This wondrous new world!