Our traveller rode a steed, which might be considered, even in the South, where the passion for fine horses is universal, of the choicest parentage.  He was blooded, and of Arabian, through English, stocks.  You might detect his blood at a glance, even as you did that of his rider.  The beast was large, high, broad-chested, sleek of skin, wiry of limb, with no excess of fat, and no straggling hair; small ears, a glorious mane, and a great lively eye.  At once docile and full of life, he trod the earth with the firm pace of an elephant, yet with the ease of an antelope; moving carelessly as in pastime, and as if he bore no sort of burden on his back.  For that matter he might well do so.  His rider, though well developed, was too slight to be felt by such a creature—­and a small portmanteau carried all his wardrobe.  Beyond this he had no impedimenta; and to those accustomed only to the modes of travel in a more settled and civilized country—­with bag and baggage—­the traveller might have appeared—­but for a pair of moderately-sized twisted barrels which we see pocketed on the saddle—­rather as a gentleman of leisure taking his morning ride, than one already far from home and increasing at every step the distance between it and himself.  From our privilege we make bold to mention, that, strictly proportioned to their capacities, the last named appurtenances carried each a charge which might have rendered awkward any interruption; and it may not be saying too much if we add, that it is not improbable to this portion of his equipage our traveller was indebted for that security which had heretofore obviated all necessity for their use.  They were essentials which might or might not, in that wild region, have been put in requisition; and the prudence of all experience, in our border country, is seldom found to neglect such companionship.

So much for the personal appearance and the equipment of our young traveller.  We have followed the usage among novelists, and have dwelt thus long upon these details, as we design that our adventurer shall occupy no small portion of the reader’s attention.  He will have much to do and to endure in the progress of this narrative.

It may be well, in order to the omission of nothing hereafter important, to add that he seems well bred to the manege—­and rode with that ease and air of indolence, which are characteristic of the gentry of the south.  His garments were strictly suited to the condition and custom of the country—­a variable climate, rough roads, and rude accommodations.  They consisted of a dark blue frock, of stuff not so fine as strong, with pantaloons of the same material, all fitting well, happily adjusted to the figure of the wearer, yet sufficiently free for any exercise.  He was booted and spurred, and wore besides, from above the knee to the ankle, a pair of buckskin leggins, wrought by the Indians, and trimmed, here and there, with beaded figures that gave a somewhat fantastic air