We went out and shot some dozen of these dogs, as they afford a nice dish for a change. They live in burrows under ground, which they throw up like the rabbits, and a hundred of them are frequently found close together. They are very shy, but easy to shoot, as, if you lie down for a little while in the grass, they come out of their holes and give a snapping cry, which has been falsely called barking by some naturalists. They are badgers, about fifteen inches in length, which only live on vegetables, carry a large winter stock into their subterranean houses, and form very numerous families. They frequently quit a place without any visible reason, and wander a long distance over hill and dale in order to seek a new home. Our horses and pack-cattle were recruited, and we too had recovered from the fatigue of our journey over the last mountains; hence we set out again, and casting many a parting glance at the Bighorn, we followed the Platte in an eastern direction, till at noon we reached a well-trodden path which runs from Fort St. Brain on the southern arm of this river down to the Missouri. We crossed it, and proceeded more to the south-west, in order to escape the numerous Indian hordes going up and down this path. A few days after we crossed the hills we had seen from our last camp, and the sky now rested before us on the interminable horizon of the prairie. For nearly a week we marched over this green plain with scarce any change in the scene. It was, however, undulating, the flora in the grass gay and varied, and a few trees afforded us shade and firewood morning and evening to prepare our meals. At length hills rose on the horizon, and we soon saw again the darker verdure of forests, which received us into their shady gloom towards evening. In this tour we were so broiled by the sun that we entered the wood with delight, and at once resolved to rest a few days here, if, as we anticipated, there was water at hand. We hurried along a buffalo path into the depths of the forest, and soon heard to our delight the rustling of a neighbouring river, whose banks we speedily reached, and it proved to be a rapidly flowing stream overhung by tall ferns. Owl told us it was one of the numerous sources of the Kansas, which runs eastward to the Missouri. "Here let us build tabernacles," we cried in one voice, but followed the path across the stream to the skirt of the wood, which was no great distance off. We unloaded our cattle in a small clearing off our path, lit a fire, and really built tabernacles, as we made a roof of bushes between several young oaks, which kept off every sunbeam, and in whose immediate vicinity were trees enough to tie up our cattle every night.