hese several qualities are exhibited, in
some of the most strongly marked of the latter class, will be seen in
the course of the ensuing narrative.

Ishmael Bush had passed the whole of a life of more than fifty years on
the skirts of society. He boasted that he had never dwelt where he might
not safely fell every tree he could view from his own threshold; that
the law had rarely been known to enter his clearing, and that his ears
had never willingly admitted the sound of a church bell. His exertions
seldom exceeded his wants, which were peculiar to his class, and rarely
failed of being supplied. He had no respect for any learning except that
of the leech; because he was ignorant of the application of any
other intelligence than such as met the senses. His deference to
this particular branch of science had induced him to listen to the
application of a medical man, whose thirst for natural history had led
him to the desire of profiting by the migratory propensities of the
squatter. This gentleman he had cordially received into his family, or
rather under his protection, and they had journeyed together, thus far
through the prairies, in perfect harmony: Ishmael often felicitating his
wife on the possession of a companion, who would be so serviceable in
their new abode, wherever it might chance to be, until the family were
thoroughly "acclimated." The pursuits of the naturalist frequently led
him, however, for days at a time, from the direct line of the route of
the squatter, who rarely seemed to have any other guide than the sun.
Most men would have deemed themselves fortunate to have been absent on
the perilous occasion of the Sioux inroad, as was Obed Bat, (or as he
was fond of hearing himself called, Battius,) M.D. and fellow of several
cis-Atlantic learned societies--the adventurous gentleman in question.

Although the sluggish nature of Ishmael was not actually awakened, it
was sorely pricked by the liberties which had just been taken with his
property. He slept, however, for it was the hour he had allotted to that
refreshment, and because he knew how impotent any exertions to recover
his effects must prove in the darkness of midnight. He also knew the
danger of his present situation too well to hazard what was left in
pursuit of that which was lost. Much as the inhabitants of the prairies
were known to love horses, their attachment to many other articles,
still in the possession of the travellers, was equally well u