Having crossed the Assiniboine river above the Fort, we now left it to the right, travelling for several days through rich, park-like country, similar to that we had previously traversed. Innumerable lakes and pools, swarming with wild-fowl, supplied us with constant shooting, and Rover with abundance of work. Canada geese, white geese, mallards, canvass-backs, large-billed ducks, various kinds of pochards, blue-winged teal, and common teal, were the most common of the different species which thronged the waters. Occasionally the appearance of a new species of duck, or a flock of white swans, gave fresh zest to the sport. The ducks at this season are most delicious, possessing much of the ordinary flavour of the wild bird, with all the fatness and delicacy of the tame one. The broods of prairie grouse were already full grown, and very plentiful. When driven into the little round copses of aspen which are such a prominent feature of the “park country,” they afforded capital sport. We were now enjoying all the glory of the Indian summer. The days were of that clear, unclouded brightness almost peculiar to the country; the temperature of a delightful warmth, except at night, when it was slightly frosty, the water sometimes showing a thin incrustation of ice by morning. The mosquitoes and sand-flies had disappeared with the first cool evening, and we slept in peace. After passing the deserted old Fort at Touchwood Hills, we came, in the course of a day or two, to a long stretch of bare rolling prairie, destitute of tree or shrub, and its hollows occupied by nothing but salt lakes, where we were obliged to carry with us a supply of fire-wood and fresh water. When we were coming to the old park country again, one evening at dark, Cheadle and La Ronde, who were out shooting ahead of the train, came to a little skirt of wood on the shores of a small lake, where they awaited the arrival of the carts, in order to camp. These soon came up, the horses were taken out and hobbled, and whilst the camp was being prepared, La Ronde walked down to the lake to try and get a shot at what he supposed were ducks on the water. He crept cautiously up, but when he peeped through the bushes which fringed the shore, he found to his astonishment that what he took for ducks were prairie hens. The lake was dry, and the saline incrustation in its bed had in the twilight, at a little distance, the most complete appearance of water. Although it was nearly dark, we had no choice but to harness up again, and go forward until we did find water somewhere. La Ronde and Cheadle were considerably chaffed for the mistake they had made, and Milton galloped off in search of a suitable camping ground. After riding two or three miles, principally through thick wood, without meeting with a sign of water, his horse suddenly neighed and turned abruptly out of the track into the bushes. The quacking of ducks at a little distance induced his rider to dismount and search,