Duck Mountain, now lying to the southward of us. We had, in fact, made a circuit round it, to avoid its rude and impassable heights. We soon after crossed an open streamlet, close to a bend of the river, from whose high bank we looked upon a noble prospect. From west to north lay outstretched the blue line of the Porcupine Hills, which are densely wooded to the very summit; while from east to south-west extended the more lofty elevation of the Duck Mountain, encircling a vast extent of flat country, pleasingly diversified with wood and plain, through which, far as the eye could reach, might be traced the river's wandering course.
On the following morning we crossed a branch of the Thunder Hills, two miles in breadth. These hills afforded us some amusement in running down their steep declivities, an exercise the more acceptable as the weather had become very cold. In the plain beyond them we saw several tracks of red-deer, and fell in with an Indian family bound on a hunting excursion. In the evening we crossed Swan River for the last time, and, availing ourselves of the moonlight, struck off through an uneven country, partially covered with underwood, for Fort Pelly, twelve miles distant. We reached it at 8 p.m., and the gates were soon thrown open by Mr. Setter, to
