My old friend and I determined to make a start for the scene of festivity. The tandem cart, which had come with us, was looked over, and the harness rubbed up; but the difficulty was how to get horsed, as we had none of our own at that time. However, without very much trouble we engaged two of some sort, though one of them turned out to be as much plague as profit, as the sequel will show. He was in the lead, and for a good while we were quite unable to make him budge an inch in the right direction. At last we saddled him, and my companion mounting, armed with a good stick, began to lay about him so vigorously that the brute made off fast enough; but his rider was so intent on keeping him moving that he quite forgot to look what direction he was going in, and led the way off the road into the bush, though, indeed, there was little difference between them. I was almost falling off my box from laughter, much less was I able to make myself heard to recall him into the road. At last, however, the direction was changed and the road regained, but I don't think I have ever laughed so much before or since, so ridiculous was the scene. Well, we managed to get as far as the first settlement on the road, about ten miles, where a good many others, all riding, had collected from different parts, and were bound to the same destination; and here we met with a Good Samaritan indeed, in the shape of a friend who had settled in the colony, and was riding a very nice quiet mare, which he most kindly exchanged with us for our leader. The only drawback to this arrangement was that she was followed by a foal at her heels, which every now and then would pass between the leader and wheeler, and it was as much as I could do to avoid injuring it. We travelled pretty comfortably, however, in this manner for a good many miles till it became dark, when it was necessary to light the lamps, as there remained some miles to be covered before arriving at the end of the day's journey; the delay at starting having thrown us behind time.