e of a lovely morning, a small
cavalcade was seen to issue from the back suburbs of Saint Louis, and,
climbing the undulating slopes in its rear, head for the far-stretching
wilderness of the prairies. It was our hunting expedition.

The cavalcade consisted of eight mounted men, and a waggon with its full
team of six tough mules. These last were under the _manege_ of "Jake"--
a free negro, with a shining black face, a thick full mop, and a set of
the best "ivories," which were almost always uncovered in a smile.

Peeping from under the tilt of the waggon might be seen another face
strongly contrasting with that of Jake. This had been originally of a
reddish hue, but sun-tan, and a thick sprinkling of freckles, had
changed the red to golden-yellow. A shock of fiery hair surmounted this
visage, which was partially concealed under a badly-battered hat.
Though the face of the black expressed good-humour, it might have been
called sad when brought into comparison with that of the little red man,
which peeped out beside it. Upon the latter, there was an expression
irresistibly comic--the expression of an actor in broad farce. One eye
was continually on the wink, while the other looked knowing enough for
both. A short clay-pipe, stuck jauntily between the lips, added to the
comical expression of the face, which was that of Mike Lanty from
Limerick. No one ever mistook the nationality of Michael.

Who were the eight cavaliers that accompanied the waggon? Six of them
were gentlemen by birth and education. At least half that number were
scholars. The other two laid no claim either to gentleness or
scholarship--they were rude trappers--the hunters and guides of the
expedition.

A word about each one of the eight, for there was not one of them
without his peculiarity. First, there was an Englishman--a genuine type
of his countrymen--full six feet high, well proportioned, with broad
chest and shoulders, and massive limbs. Hair of a light brown,
complexion florid, moustache and whiskers full and hay-coloured, but
suiting well the complexion and features. The last were regular, and if
not handsome, at least good humoured and noble in their expression. The
owner was in reality a nobleman--a true nobleman--one of that class who,
while travelling through the "States," have the good sense to carry
their umbrella along, and leave their title behind them. To us he was
known as Mr Thompson, and, after some time, when we ha