Our ride over fallen timber and through morass for the distance of about two miles to the shore of the lake was probably performed more skillfully in the darkness of the night than if we had seen the obstacles in our path, and as we rounded a point on the smooth beach we saw at a distance of a little over a mile the welcome watch fire of our comrades.  When we arrived within hailing distance we gave a loud halloo, and the ready response by a dozen sympathetic voices of our companions-in-arms showed that our own anxiety had been shared by them.  Our camp to-night is on the westerly side of the most southeasterly bay of the lake.  These bays are separated by long points of land extending far out into the lake.  From our camp of two days ago some of these points seemed to be islands.  From the top of the mountain, which Doane and I ascended to-day, I made an outline map of the north and east sides of the lake and part of the south side; but on account of the heavy timber on the promontories I could not make a correct outline of the south and west shores.  General Washburn and Hauser, as well as myself, have thus far made outlines of the lake shore as best we could from points on a level with the lake, but these have been unsatisfactory and have lacked completeness, and Washburn and Hauser have both expressed their satisfaction with the sketch of the lake shore I made to-day from the top of the mountain; and Washburn has just told me that Lieutenant Doane has suggested that, as I was the first to reach the summit of the mountain, the peak should be named for me.  I shall be gratified if this is done.[P]

[Illustration:  MAP OF YELLOWSTONE LAKE.  COPY OF THE ORIGINAL OUTLINE SKETCHED BY NATHANIEL P. LANGFORD FROM THE TOP OF MOUNT LANGFORD, SEPT. 7, 1870, AND COMPLETED SEPT. 10 AND 13.]

We have traveled from our morning camp about twelve miles, but we are not more than four miles from it in a straight line.

Thursday, September 8.—­Travel to-day has led us in zigzag directions over fallen timber some twelve miles.  We have halted on a small creek about one mile from the most southerly arm of the lake and about seven miles in a straight line from our morning camp.

This has been a terrible day for both men and horses.  The standing trees are so thick that we often found it impossible to find a space wide enough for the pack animals to squeeze through, and we were frequently separated from each other in a search for a route.  Hedges and Stickney, in this way, became separated from the rest of the party, and after suffering all the feelings of desolation at being lost in this wilderness, accidentally stumbled upon our camp, and they freely expressed their joy at their good fortune in being restored to the party.  I fully sympathized with them, for, speaking from a personal experience of a similar character which I had in 1862, I can say that a man can have no more complete sense of utter desolation than that which overwhelms him when he realizes that he is lost.