During all this time we shot antelope and coyotes whenever an opportunity offered, and preserved the skins and skeletons of the finest until we had obtained a very fine series of both. At this season the pelts of these animals were in the finest possible condition, the hair having attained its maximum length and density, and, being quite new, had lost none of its brightness of color, either by wear or the action of the weather. Along Sand Creek and all around the High Divide antelope were moderately plentiful (but really scarce in comparison with their former abundance), so much so that had we been inclined to slaughter we could have killed a hundred head or more, instead of the twenty that we shot as specimens and for their flesh. We have it to say that from first to last not an antelope was killed which was not made use of to the fullest extent. On the 31st of October, Mr. Boyd and I discovered a buffalo cow and yearling calf in the ravines north of the High Divide, within 3 miles of our camp, and killed them both. The next day Private West arrived with a six mule team from Fort Keogh, in charge of Corporal Clafer and three men. This wagon brought us another 2,000 pounds of oats and various commissary stores. When it started back, on November 3, we sent by it all the skins and skeletons of buffalo, antelope, etc., which we had collected up to that date, which made a heavy load for the six mules. On this same day Mr. McNaney killed two young cow buffaloes in the bad lands south of the High Divide, which brought our total number up to fourteen. On the night of the 3d the weather turned very cold, and on the day following we experienced our first snow-storm. By that time the water in the hole, which up to that time had supplied our camp, became so thick with mud and filth that it was unendurable; and having discovered a fine pool of pure water in the bottom of a little cañon on the southern slope of the High Divide we moved to it forthwith. It was really the upper spring of the main fork of the Big Porcupine, and a finer situation for a camp does not exist in that whole region. The spot which nature made for us was sheltered on all sides by the high walls of the cañon, within easy reach of an inexhaustible supply of good water, and also within reach of a fair supply of dry fire-wood, which we found half a mile below. This became our last permanent camp, and its advantages made up for the barrenness and discomfort of our camp on Calf Creek. Immediately south of us, and 2 miles distant there rose a lofty conical butte about 600 feet high, which forms a very conspicuous landmark from the south. We were told that it was visible from 40 miles down the Porcupine. Strange to say, this valuable landmark was without a name, so far as we could learn; so, for our own convenience, we christened it Smithsonian Butte.