nsion of
a solitary individual, and yet too prudent to omit, entirely, the
customary precautions. The principal reason of the marked difference
which the two legitimate proprietors of the banquet made in the
receptions of their guests, was to be explained by the entire difference
which existed in their respective appearances.

While the exterior of the naturalist was decidedly pacific, not to say
abstracted, that of the new comer was distinguished by an air of vigour,
and a front and step which it would not have been difficult to have at
once pronounced to be military.

He wore a forage-cap of fine blue cloth, from which depended a soiled
tassel in gold, and which was nearly buried in a mass of exuberant,
curling, jet-black hair. Around his throat he had negligently fastened
a stock of black silk. His body was enveloped in a hunting-shirt of dark
green, trimmed with the yellow fringes and ornaments that were sometimes
seen among the border-troops of the Confederacy. Beneath this, however,
were visible the collar and lapels of a jacket, similar in colour and
cloth to the cap. His lower limbs were protected by buckskin leggings,
and his feet by the ordinary Indian moccasins. A richly ornamented,
and exceedingly dangerous straight dirk was stuck in a sash of red
silk net-work; another girdle, or rather belt, of uncoloured leather
contained a pair of the smallest sized pistols, in holsters nicely made
to fit, and across his shoulder was thrown a short, heavy, military
rifle; its horn and pouch occupying the usual places beneath his arms.
At his back he bore a knapsack, marked by the well known initials
that have since gained for the government of the United States the
good-humoured and quaint appellation of Uncle Sam.

"I come in amity," the stranger said, like one too much accustomed to
the sight of arms to be startled at the ludicrously belligerent attitude
which Dr. Battius had seen fit to assume. "I come as a friend; and am
one whose pursuits and wishes will not at all interfere with your own."

"Harkee, stranger," said Paul Hover, bluntly; "do you understand lining
a bee from this open place into a wood, distant, perhaps, a dozen
miles?"

"The bee is a bird I have never been compelled to seek," returned the
other, laughing; "though I have, too, been something of a fowler in my
time."

"I thought as much," exclaimed Paul, thrusting forth his hand frankly,
and with the true freedom of manner that marks an American