Crossing another prairie, about half the breadth of the last, we encamped in a cluster of small poplars, near "the two openings," or vistas, in the woods, as seen from the plain.
Christmas-day, Sunday, the 25th.—On shaking off our slumbers this glad morning, a troop of wolves were "baying the moon" as she rode in a cloudless sky. The country before us being intricate, we could not start till daylight; and, when we sallied forth on our day's march, the weather had moderated. About two miles from our resting-place we passed over a round hill, and stood a while on its summit to enjoy the boundless prospect. From west to south stretched a vast plain, separated from another, of which we had a bird's eye glimpse to the north-east, by the broad belt of woods which we had been skirting along; while, before us, in our line of march, lay outspread a seemingly endless tract of open underwood, varied by gently swelling eminences. For seven miles our route led west-north-west, through thickets and over hillocks; it then changed to west for fourteen miles, through a more open country, consisting of rising grounds, or "côteaus," with bare ridges, and sides clothed with dwarf poplar and brushwood; while here and there, in the hollows, we crossed large ponds, scarcely deserving, on this continent, the title of
