One morning I had just left camp and was riding through an extensive prairie, when I fancied I could recognise this landmark, and convinced myself by the aid of my glass that I was not mistaken. I felt myself at home again, although this point was a good day's journey from my house: still, I knew in which direction my road lay, and eagerly went along it. About noon I reached one of those most troublesome cactus woods, which frequently run across the prairies. The present one ran like a wall for miles across my path. There is no chance of riding through these thickets, as the prickly plants grow closely together. Though they are most disagreeable to the hunter, their appearance is most attractive to the naturalist, through the brilliant colour of the cactus flowers, and the peculiar shape of the plants. This obstacle led me a long way from my route, as I was obliged to ride round it for several miles. While I was riding close along this wall, still hoping to find a free passage, I suddenly noticed a deer, about twenty yards off, poking its head out of the prickles, and staring at me in surprise. I raised my rifle--Czar stopped instantly--and fired at the head, as I could not see any more of the deer. I could distinctly see through the smoke that the bullet smashed the right side of the deer's head, and heard it dash away a few yards, and then fall; but it was impossible to penetrate the prickly wall for this short distance, and reach the deer. The cactuses were here from sixteen to seventeen feet high, and so close together that I could not go a foot into them. Hence I was obliged to give up the deer, and was very glad on at length reaching a narrow glade which ran through the wood. Late at night I rode along the bank of a river, which I took for one of the western arms of Turkey Creek, and was forced to halt and pass the night here by the numerous rocks that rose from the tall grass and ferns. The next morning I passed the spot where I crossed the river with the unfortunate Kreger by means of the trunk of the tree, and at noon reached the camp where the storm had treated us so ill. The revived memory of the unhappy man was very painful to me, and I hurried from the spot, in order to get rid of the blood-stained picture of the scalped naturalist. I now came again into my own hunting-grounds, where nearly every tree and shrub reminded me of a fine chase, and my desire for home and my faithful Trusty urged me on. I rode late into the night, till I reached at ten o'clock a camping-place, where I and Czar had often stopped before. It was evident that the sensible creature recognised his home, and again sought the same spot to rest where he had before stretched his beautiful limbs.