water of a brackish taste.  The last we called Rattlesnake creek from our seeing that animal near it.  Although no timber can be observed on it from the Missouri, it throws out large quantities of driftwood, among which were some pieces of coal brought down by the stream.  We continued on one mile and a quarter, and encamped on the south, after making twenty and a half miles.  The country in general is rugged, the hills high, with their summits and sides partially covered with pine and cedar, and their bases on both sides washed by the river:  like those already mentioned the lower part of these hills is a dark rich loam, while the upper region for one hundred and fifty feet consists of a whitish brown sand, so hard as in many places to resemble stone, though in fact very little stone or rock of any kind is to be seen on the hills.  The bed of the Missouri is much narrower than usual, being not more than between two and three hundred yards in width, with an uncommonly large proportion of gravel; but the sandbars, and low points covered with willows have almost entirely disappeared:  the timber on the river consists of scarcely any thing more than a few scattered cottonwood trees.  The saline incrustations along the banks and the foot of the hills are more abundant than usual.  The game is in great quantities, but the buffaloe are not so numerous as they were some days ago:  two rattlesnakes were seen to-day, and one of them killed:  it resembles those of the middle Atlantic states, being about two feet six inches long, of a yellowish brown on the back and sides, variegated with a row of oval dark brown spots lying transversely on the back from the neck to the tail, and two other rows of circular spots of the same colour on the sides along the edge of the scuta:  there are one hundred and seventy-six scuta on the belly, and seventeen on the tail.  Captain Clarke saw in his excursions a fortified Indian camp which appeared to have been recently occupied, and was, we presumed, made by a party of Minnetarees who went to war last March.

Late at night we were roused by the sergeant of the guard in consequence of a fire which had communicated to a tree overhanging our camp.  The wind was so high, that we had not removed the camp more than a few minutes when a large part of the tree fell precisely on the spot it had occupied, and would have crushed us if we had not been alarmed in time.

Saturday 18.  The wind continued high from the west, but by means of the towline we were able to make nineteen miles, the sandbars being now few in number, the river narrow and the current gentle; the willow has in a great measure disappeared, and even the cottonwood, almost the only timber remaining, is growing scarce.  At twelve and three quarter miles we came to a creek on the north, which was perfectly dry.  We encamped on the south opposite the lower point of an island.