The rivalry between the two careers, good-natured as it was, served to amuse and interest us; and while _our_ blank days were certain to obtain for us a share of scoffs and jibes, _their_ unsuccessful ones did not escape their share of sarcasm. If one party affected to bewail the necessity of storing up treasure for a set of walking gentlemen who passed the day in pleasure-rambles about the country, the other took care to express their discontent at returning loaded with spoils for a parcel of lazy impostors that lounged away their time on the bank of a river. Meanwhile, both pursuits flourished admirably. Practice had made us most expert with the rifle; and as we were fortunate enough to secure some of the "mustangs," and train them to the saddle, our "chasse" became both more profitable and pleasant. By degrees, too, little evidences of superfluity began to display themselves in our equipment: our saddles, at first made of a mere wooden trestle, with a strip of buffalo hide thrown across it, were now ornamented with black bear-skins, or the more valuable black fox-skin; our own costume, if not exactly conformable to Parisian models, was comfortable and easy,--a brown deerskin tunic, fastened by a belt around the waist; short breeches, reaching to the knee-cap, which was left bare, for climbing; "botas vaqueras," very loose at top, and serving as holsters for our pistols; and a cap of fox or squirrel, usually designed by the wearer, and exhibiting proofs of ingenuity, if not taste: such was our dress. Our weapons of rifle, and bowie-knife, and pistols, giving it a character, which, on the boards of a minor theatre, would have been a crowning "success." We were also all mounted,--some, Hermose and myself in particular, admirably so. And although I often in my own heart regretted the powers of strength and endurance of poor "Charry," my little mustang steed, with his long forelock and his bushy moustaches,--a strange peculiarity of this breed,--was a picture of compactness and agility. We had also constructed a rude wagon--so rude that I can even yet laugh as I think on it--to carry our spoils, which were far too cumbrous for a mere horse-load, and when left on the prairies attracted such numbers of prairie-wolves and vultures as to be downright perilous. If this same wagon was not exactly a type for "Long Acre," it was at least strong and serviceable; and although the wheels were far nearer oval than circular, they _did_ go round; the noise they created in so doing might have been disagreeable to a nervous invalid, being something between the scream of a railway train and the yell of a thousand peacocks. But I believe we rather liked it,--at least, I know that when some luckless Sybarite suggested the use of a little bear's fat around the axle, he was looked on as a kind of barbarian to whom nature denied the least ear for music.