Sunday 13th, set out early. Our way led over a luxuriant bottom of from three to twelve miles in breadth, producing a luxuriant growth of grasses, now glittering with drops of collected dew; crossed a creek which is destitute of timber, as far as the eye can trace its course. The depth of the water being to all appearance considerable, it became necessary to seek a fording-place, which was found about a mile above its confluence. It was here knee-deep, flowing with a moderate current over a bed of sand and gravel, the surface of the water being depressed only about four feet below the general level.[111] About an hundred yards beyond its confluence, we observed a canal of water backed up from the river, which, from a little distance, gave a double appearance to the creek. We remained here until a large elk, which had been shot, was cut up, and the meat packed upon the horses. At our mid-day resting-place were a few trees, and some elevated sand-hills, but as the situation was not an eligible one for the protection of the horses from Indian depredation, we moved a few miles further, and encamped, as usual, on the bank of the river. The day had been very sultry, with an extreme temperature of 95 degrees, and the evening was accompanied by a display of lightning in the north-western horizon. The bisons are yet numerous, and the white wolves also abundant; packs of the latter are still heard to howl about our camp in the night, thus responding to the harsh bellowing or grunting of the bulls. Our dogs, that formerly took part in this wild and savage concert, by barking fiercely in return, no longer rouse us from our sleep by noticing it.