Having reached the summit, we proceeded across it to the banks of Fox River, where we encamped. It consists of a level plain. The distance is a mile and a half. It required, however, some time to have our baggage and canoes transported, which was done by a Frenchman residing at this summit. Such is the slight difference in the level of the two rivers, that Indian canoes are pushed through the marshy ridges when the rivers are swelled by freshets. It was half-past three o'clock of the 15th, the day following our arrival, before the transportation and loading of our canoes was completed. It was then necessary to push our canoes through fields of rushes and other aquatic plants, through which the river winds. This was a slow mode of progress, and we spent the remainder of the day in passing fifteen miles, which brought us to the FORKS, so called, where the northern unites with the southern branch of the river. At this spot we encamped. Next day we estimated our descent at sixty-three miles, having found the navigation less intricate and obstructed from the aquatic growth. In this distance we passed, at thirty miles below the fork, a piece of clear water of nine miles extent, called Buffalo Lake; and at the distance of twelve miles lower, another lake of some twelve miles in extent, called Puckaway Lake. Down to this point, the Fox River has scarcely a perceptible current. We found we had not only, in parting from the Wisconsin to the Fox, exchanged an open, swift, and strong flowing current, for a very quiet and still one, winding through areas of wild rice and the whole family of water plants; but had intruded into a region of water-fowl and birds of every plumage, who, as they rioted upon their cherished zizania aquatica, made the air resound with their screams. The blackbird appeared to be lord of these fields. We had also intruded upon a favorite region of the water-snake, who, coiled up on his bed of plants at every bend of the stream, slid off with spiteful glance into the stream. In passing these places of habitation, which the Chippewas call _wauzh_, we perceptibly smelt an unpleasant odor arising from it.