During the prevalence of the greatest heat of the day, which was 94 degrees, we again set forward, and passed over a gently undulated surface, supporting an open forest of young and scrub oak, intermixed with hickory. In the course of a few miles we arrived at the edge of this forest, which here crowned a much elevated region. It was in fact higher in proportion to the surface before us than any other portion of the country we had seen on this side of the mountains. The eye from this height roved over a vast distance of prairie, and comparatively plain country; and it was evident that we had now passed the hilly and even mountainous country, which we have of late been traversing. A few hills still interrupted the continuity of surface below, more particularly on the right of the landscape towards the river. Not a human being was yet to be perceived, nor a single trait indicative of their present existence. It seemed for a moment that our little cavalcade alone was endowed with the vital principle, and that the vegetable world held a silent and solitary dominion. Belle Point still evades our sight; we might have passed it, or it may still be very far before us; yet we can no longer struggle through the tangled underwood that encloses the river, nor pick our passage amongst the loose stones of the bluffs, in order to preserve an uninterrupted view of the bank of the river upon which that post is established. From this {97} position the path winds rather abruptly downward, and, at a little distance on the plain, conducted us through an abandoned Indian hunting camp. The horse that gave out on Sunday, having been since both packed and rode, this afternoon sunk under his rider to the ground, and resisted our efforts to induce him to rise. As he appeared to be entirely exhausted, we reluctantly abandoned him. He had been a sprightly, handsome, and serviceable animal, and was chosen from a considerable number of horses, and presented to Mr. Say, by Major O'Fallon, when at the Pawnee villages. After a day's journey of twenty-two miles, a favourable situation for an encampment offering timely at a site which appeared to have been occupied by a tribe of Indians during the late winter, induced us to pitch the tents, and prepare for the night. And Lieutenant Swift, whose dexterity as a marksman had previously relieved us in times of need, now succeeded in killing a turkey for our evening meal. Wednesday, 30th. We pursued the path about ten miles farther, with the hope of its soon terminating at some Indian village; but as it continued to diverge too widely from our apparent true course, we once again relinquished it, and turned towards the river, which we expected to regain in the course of a few miles, by tracing down the opposite bank of a large ravine, which now presented itself. At our resting place of noon the banded rattlesnake (C. horridus) occurred, and five young turkies were procured by the hunters.