Olaf came around the curve toward the house, guiding the plow and walking at the slow, deliberate pace of his oxen. He loved these two. They had brought him and Irena to this territory named Dakota. Now they were serving to make soil ready for planting.

It was the beginning of spring and the whole world smelled good. A few larks sang their happy song of creation. Lazy insects buzzed. Olaf sniffed the air. It was slightly humid. In fact, this morning had started out unusually warm with a breeze from the south. A few dark clouds hung low on the northern horizon.

Olaf had noticed Irena walking toward the river, looking left and right. She walked slowly, looking for something. It was one of their cows.

Olaf and Irena kept two milk cows in a pen near the small dwelling. They needed the milk. Eric was two years old. Jason was just eight months and milk was a big part of his diet.

About ten miles away the Johnson family kept a bull. Olaf alternated his two cows' pregnancies, keeping one always fresh. He would fatten the calves and butcher them, or give one to the Johnsons as a tribute for the bull's service.

One of the cows was getting near the day of delivery and had shoved her way out of the pen. Off she went, down toward the river, seeking a quiet place to become a mother. Irena had noticed her absence and began the search, guessing correctly where the cow was headed.

Her cow might not be safe down there. Just last week an old grey wolf had come sniffing around. Fortunately, it had been driven away, fleeing in terror when attacked by Irena's guardian angels. A pair of eagles was nesting along the river and Olaf said they were her angels.

The wolf had been alone, making its way south. It had probably been banished from the pack. There it was, sniffing along, moving ever southward when the eagles saw it.

One eagle circled. The other watched. The nest was nearly finished. Olaf and Irena posed no threat. In fact, their activities were interesting to watch, especially plowing and tending the cattle.

As the eagle circled the wolf, the beast turned toward the small house, sensing an opportunity to create mischief. Irena had just opened the door and saw it crouched in the grass at the yard's edge.

She reached for her broom and bounded out the door.

"Away with you!" she shouted, waving the broom.

The wolf lowered its ears and bared its teeth. It crouched lower, muscles tightened, guided by hunger and instinct.

Irena's steps faltered. The wolf sensed her hesitation and began to creep forward, baring its teeth more and growling under its breath.

The wolf was just about to leap. Irena looked over her shoulder toward the safety of the door she had just left. Her broom was inadequate as a weapon. Could she retreat in time?

Both eagles were out of their nest and circling now. They knew what the wolf would do.

Just as the wolf raised its body into position to attack, Irena saw something coming through the air. It looked like a feathered ball about the size of her hat and moved silently.

That snarling killer made its jump and two living things met in midair. The old grey wolf was knocked asunder by a feathered ball of fury flying through the air.

First one eagle then the other, attacking alternately, folded their wings and dove upon the terrified animal. Eagle claws have great authority when they dig into a wolf's hide.

"Owwee!" The wolf let out a yelp. It hit the ground and scurried toward the river.

Irena watched as the eagles progressed down river, circling and diving. Occasionally she heard a muffled snarl.

All that and more was on Olaf's mind as he unhitched the oxen and went into the house.

The place reeked with the smell of Jason's diaper. It was long past time for a fresh one. Olaf set about changing it, turning his nose slightly aside, first left then right.

Irena continued toward the river, almost certain she knew where to find her cow.

Suddenly the wind began to blow. Eric sang out happily, "Snow. Look, Papa!"

It surely was snowing hard and the wind had turned, coming from the northwest. Now those dark clouds on the northern horizon were rolling in. It was the beginning of a vicious spring snowstorm.

Irena found her cow and its new calf huddled beneath a curving bank alongside the river. In years past, water had scooped a place for the mother cow and calf to shelter against the snowstorm.

Irena patted the cow and said, "It's fine. We'll be safe here. Oh, my. What a nice little baby calf you brought me."

Spring snowstorms in the Dakotas try to dump tons of white stuff left over from the past winter. Their fury makes it seem like the weather has overlooked a few acres that need to be buried knee deep one last time.

Irena snuggled against the mother cow and cradled the new calf in her arms.

Snow and wind lashed furiously until past midnight. Then the storm clouds flirted away toward the southeast, seeking other ground to cover with a miserable, wet and white blanket.

The moon came out. Olaf stood looking out the window, certain Irena had found shelter.

"When Mama come?" Eric wailed.

Jason sucked his thumb and was happy with his father's attention.

Irena awakened next morning to a shimmering, shining world. It was still Dakota territory, but looked like the north pole.

She started toward the house, the calf in her arms and a frowning cow following in the knee-deep snow.

As Irena neared the front door, Olaf and Eric waved. "Good morning. Have a good night's sleep?"

"We hugged each other and let it snow," Irena answered, beaming happily. "Here. Look. We have another new baby."

The cow headed for the pen with a disgusted, "Moo!"

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