wagons for use in case we did not find wood camps. We struck North Platte about twelve miles west of Ash Hollow, according to our guide, Black Harris.
On July 25 we could see Chimney Rock, and passed Castle Rock, apparently two and a half miles off. I hunted that day, and started off to see the rock; walked fully three miles, and yet was more than a mile from it. I came to a place where either snow-melt floods, or wind, had broken and undermined the sandy sidehill, and jumped down about nine feet just missing a big wolf, who appeared to have been shading himself. I was so startled at my "find" that he was a long shot off before I got aim, and did not shoot, because he ran as if worse scared than I. Castle Rock, at a mile distance ^ showed up too big for human use, and I turned my course so as to hunt along the sand hills parallel to the train's movement, and came upon a single buffalo's track winding among the hollows wounded probably; or a bull defeated and lost his leadership. I also passed a large rattlesnake; any snake is repulsive to me, but I do not shoot this, reflecting that it may live out its own life here and never again be seen by a human eye. Looking up the valley the top of Chimney Rock seems suspended in the sky, as the light seems to join between the top and base. Effect of this light, or the subtle transformations of the mirage.
July 27 we were traveling fast, and the road was good. I am to-day hunting on horseback. I pass the morning going around the base of Chimney Rock. This, and the bluffs here, which at a distance look so like large city buildings, are all of soft stone formation, and are evidently wearing away fast. The days are bright now, and movement raises the dust. Some of the families are drying buffalo meat by tacking the steaks together and
