Major A. M. Jarvis, Mr. E. A. Preble, Corporal Selig, Chief Pierre Squirrel, and myself, all mounted, plus two pack-horses, prepared for a week's campaign. Riding ahead in his yellow caftan and black burnoose was Pierre Squirrel on his spirited charger, looking most picturesque. But remembering that his yellow caftan was a mosquito net, his black burnoose a Hudson's Bay coat, and his charger an ornery Indian Cayuse, robbed the picture of most of its poetry. We marched westerly 7 miles through fine, dry, jack-pine wood, then, 3 miles through mixed poplar, pine, and spruce, And came to the Slave River opposite Point Gravois. Thence we went a mile or so into similar woods, and after another stretch of muskegs. We camped for lunch at 11.45, having covered 12 miles. At two we set out, and reached Salt River at three, but did not cross there. It is a magnificent stream, 200 feet wide, with hard banks and fine timber on each side; but its waters are brackish. We travelled north-westerly, or northerly, along the east banks for an hour, but at length away from it on a wide prairie, a mile or more across here, but evidently extending much farther behind interruptions of willow clumps. Probably these prairies join, with those we saw on the Beaulieu trip. They are wet now, though a horse can go anywhere, and the grass is good. We camped about six on a dry place back from the river. At night I was much interested to hear at intervals the familiar Kick-kick-kick-kick of the Yellow Rail in the adjoining swamps. This must be its northmost range; we did not actually see it. Here I caught a garter-snake. Preble says it is the same form as that at Edmonton. Our guide was as much surprised to see me take it in my hands, as he was to see me let it go unharmed. Next morning, after a short hour's travel, we came again to Salt River and proceeded to cross. Evidently Squirrel had selected the wrong place, for the sticky mud seemed bottomless, and we came near losing two of the horses. After two hours we all got across and went on, but most of the horses had shown up poorly, as spiritless creatures, not yet recovered from the effects of a hard winter. Our road now lay over the high upland of the Salt Mountain, among its dry and beautiful woods. The trip would have been glorious but for the awful things that I am not allowed to mention outside of Chapter IX. Pierre proved a pleasant and intelligent companion; he did his best, but more than once shook his head and said: "Chevaux no good."