The thick boughs of the trees arched over our heads, and we were often compelled, as we rode, to break away the projecting branches of the shrubs which impeded our path.

The little prairie west of Wright's Woods was the usual termination of our ride in this direction.
When we chose the path across the prairie towards the south, we generally passed a new-comer, Dr.Harmon, superintending the construction of a _sod fence_, at a spot he had chosen, near the shore of the lake.

In this inclosure he occupied himself, as the season advanced, in planting fruit-stones of all descriptions, to make ready a garden and orchard for future enjoyment.
We usually stopped to have a little chat.

The two favorite themes of the Doctor were horticulture, and the certain future importance of Chicago.
That it was destined to be a great city, was his unalterable conviction; and in deed, by this time, all forest and prairie as it was, we half began to believe it ourselves.
On the pleasant afternoons which we occasionally enjoyed as the season advanced, we found no small amusement in practising pistol-firing.

The place appropriated to this sport was outside the pickets, the mark being placed on a panel in one of the bastions.