Early the following year Henry made a visit to an Assiniboin village, to reach which he crossed many miles of the frozen wilderness. He was accompanied by a party of Indians and the short account of the journey contains much of interest. They left Fort des Prairies, "built on the margin of the Pasquayah, or Sascatchiwaine," February 5, 1776, and, as is recorded in the journal, "At noon, we crossed a small river, called Moose-river, flowing at the feet of very lofty banks. Moose-river is said to fall into Lake Dauphin. Beyond this stream, the wood grows still more scanty, and the land more and more level. Our course was southerly. The snow lay four feet deep. The Indians travelled swiftly; and, in keeping pace with them, my companions and myself had too much exercise, to suffer from the coldness of the atmosphere; but, our snow-shoes being of a broader make than those of the Indians, we had much fatigue in following their track. The women led, and we marched till sunset, when we reached a small coppice of wood, under the protection of which we encamped. The baggage of the Indians was drawn by dogs, who kept pace with the women, and appeared to be under their command. As soon as we halted, the women set up the tents, which were constructed, and covered, like those of the Cristinaux.
"The tent, in which I slept, contained fourteen persons, each of whom lay with his feet to the fire, which was in the middle; but, the night was so cold, that even this precaution, with the assistance of our _buffalo-robes_ was insufficient to keep us warm. Our supper was made on the tongues of the wild ox, or buffalo, boiled in my kettle, which was the only one in the camp."
On the morning of February 7, "I was still asleep, when the women began their noisy preparations for our march. The striking of the tents, the tongues of the women, and the cries of the dogs, were all heard at once. At the first dawn of day, we commenced our journey. Nothing was visible but the snow and sky; and the snow was drifted into ridges, resembling waves.
"Soon after sunrise, we descried a herd of oxen, extending a mile and a half in length, and too numerous to be counted. They travelled, not one after another, as, in the snow, other animals usually do, but, in a broad phalanx, slowly, and sometimes stopping to feed."