They were to go in a wagon, and, contrary to the usual emigrant fashion, an uncovered one. Nathan wanted a light spring-wagon to use upon his farm, and Lissa insisted that she could see the country and enjoy the ride after the fleet little mustangs better in that particular wagon than in any other possible conveyance. They started upon a beautiful September morning, one of those days which seem to blend the perfection of summer loveliness with the delightful, hazy charm of early autumn. “All you need now is a brass band and a banner,” Donald said, as Nathan drove up to the door with the scrubby little ponies attached to the brightly painted wagon, “and you could take a bridal tour in first-class style. “And, Lissa, if you should meet any Indians by the way be sure you shake hands with them, and say ‘How,’ which is the Indian for ‘How d’you do.’ It means, you know, that you are ready for decapitation if it so pleases them and only question their _manner_ of procedure. They might be offended if you omitted this little ceremony, and become unpleasant; and, Lissa, if any of them shall ask you for a lock of your hair don’t hesitate to cut off a curl and give it to them with the sweetest smile you can muster, for they might take a notion to take the whole of them just to hang in their belts for ornaments, and—But I don’t mean to frighten you, ’pon my soul I don’t!” he continued, noting the suspicion of tears in Lissa’s bright eyes and the tremor in her voice as she turned to bid good-by to Squire Bartram and the irrepressible, fun-loving brother whom she had taken into her affection. “The wild home to which you are going will have one star of the first magnitude to brighten it before many days, but I reckon it will be rather dark in this quarter of the heavens to-night,” he said, looking graver than she had ever before seen him. “O Don, how can that be, when _you_ are to remain?” Lissa replied, smiling through her tears. “I am a planet and only shine by reflected light,” he replied; “not that I shall cast any reflection upon what has gone before,” he added in his old manner. “But don’t be surprised if you should see a stray comet out on the prairies before many moons-there’s no telling when one may be liable to strike you.” “The sooner the better,” she responded brightly, and with a few more words of final adieu they drove away. They had several miles of drive to the ferry which should transport them across the Missouri River, or the “Big Muddy” as the Indians named its roily waters. “It well deserves its name,” observed Lissa. “Yes,” responded Nathan, “and this river keeps its color and current separate unto itself for many miles after emptying into the clear Mississippi.” “I should say the Mississippi refused to be polluted by it and tried to quarantine against it,” Lissa returned.