If ever a woman put her whole mind to a thing, I did on that four-in-hand. There was no place for mistakes. There was no place for anything but the right thing, and do it I must or run the risk of breaking my very dusty, very brown, but none the less precious neck. A sharp turn in a steep road with rocks a foot high disputing the right of way with the wheels, a heavy load, horses that do not want to pull, and a green driver--that was the situation. If it does not appeal to you as one of the horribles in life, try it once. "Run your leaders farther up the bank--left, left! _Get up, Milo! Frank, get out of that_! Now sharp to the right. _Whoa! Steady_! Left--left, I say! _Milo, whoa_! Now to the right, quick! Let 'em on the bank more. _Nellie, easy_--_Whoa! Steady, George_!" Crack went the whip on the leaders. "Hold your lines tighter. Pull that nigh leader. _Get out of that, Frank! Now steady, boys_! Don't pull--there!" Down went the brake; we were safely round the turn, and all hands rested for a moment. Thus we worked all that morning, Green with the brake, the whip, and his tongue; I with the lines, what strength I had and mother wit in lieu of experience. There were stretches of two hundred feet of granite, smooth and polished as a floor, where the horses repeatedly slipped and fell, and where the wheels brought forth hollow mocking rumbles. There were sections where the rocky ledges succeeded one another in steps, and the animals had to pull the heavy wagon up rises from a foot to eighteen inches high by sheer strength--as easy to drive up a flight of brownstone steps on Fifth Avenue. There were places between huge boulders where a swerve of a foot to the right or to the left would have sent us crashing into the unyielding granite. When we got to the top there was no place to rest--only rock, rock everywhere. No water, no food for the exhausted horses, nothing to do but to push on to the bottom--and such going! Have you ever felt the shuddering of a wagon with brake hard on, as it poised in air the instant before it dropped a foot or two to the next level, from hard rock to hard rock? Have you ever tried to keep four horses away from under a wagon, and yet sufficiently near it not to precipitate the crash? Have you ever at the same time tried to keep them from falling on the rocks ahead and from plunging over the bank as you turn a sharp curve on a steep down grade? If you have, then you know the nature of my first lesson in four-in-hand driving. We got to the bottom at dusk. I was too tired to speak. Every muscle set up a separate complaint and I had had nothing to eat since morning, as we had expected to make camp by noon. The world seemed indeed a very drab place. We found the hunters careering around searching for us. They thought they had missed us--as they had done the bear.