After one of these hot days, I rode Czar out of the fort, and Trusty, released from the chain, sprang joyfully at my horse's head, delighted at getting into the open country again, and the prospect of fresh deer or buffalo kidneys. We went slowly toward the thickly-wooded bank of the creek, which bordered the prairie ahead of us like a purple strip, through large gay fields of flowers, with which the prairie is adorned. Blue, yellow, red, and white beds, in the most varied hues, succeeded each other, and filled the air with the sweetest and most fragrant perfumes. Wherever the eye turned it fell on herds of deer, that were sheltering themselves from the burning sun under isolated elms and mosquito trees, and rose on our approach to be ready for flight. Further on grazed many herds of migratory buffaloes, from which the prairies at this season are never quite free, and, here and there, antelopes were flying over the heaving sea of grass and flowers. As I rode along, my eye was certainly rejoiced by this abundance of game, but I did not change my direction on that account, because I was not any great distance from the thickets in advance of the forest on Mustang Creek, where I could approach the game with much less trouble. These wooded intervals, which run for about a mile into the prairie, consist of dwarf plum-trees, four feet in height, partly separate, partly in clumps, which are closely interlaced with wild vines, but always leave small openings between, and here and there are overshadowed by a densely-foliaged elm. You are obliged to wind between these clumps till you reach a broad open grassy clearing, which extends between these thickets and the high woods on Mustang Creek.