The rain of yesterday relieved us from the trials of dust on our journey, but it also made the going very heavy, and instead of travelling for the usual two hours before relieving horses, we were obliged to make an early stop for a change. This is always an interesting sight, for the animals are so well trained. Our total number is 87, and when a halt is called, these animals are all lined up in a row, generally against a wire fence. At the word of command they range themselves, backed close against the fence in a long line with their heads outwards. Packed tightly together they await the inspection of their master, who chooses the animals he requires, and as they are standing thus they allow themselves to be haltered up and led quietly away from the line to be harnessed. Their training is wonderful, but it is really amusing to watch the expression of the horses as they stand in a row while the selection takes place, they seem to be saying "Please, sir, not I this time." Where no wire fence is available, the peons stretch a rope or lasso out, and the horses will line up against that in the same manner. During our first change of horses, unexpected excitement occurred. The Saint perceived a plaid horse--at least this is what she called it, and we believed it to be German for piebald horse--from which a peon had dismounted. This horse must have reminded her of the circus-riders of her childhood (or possibly her action was owing to temporary aberration); anyhow, without a word of warning, she leapt astride the native saddle and gave a short display of how it should be done. However, fortunately from her point of view, though disappointingly from that of the spectators, the piebald animal had not been trained to circus tricks, and only quietly ambled along for a few yards, during which time the cameras came into full play. After The Saint had been persuaded to dismount, and the horses were harnessed up, an onward move was made, and it was not long before we met our host for the day. He had ridden to the furthest outposts of his section to join us, and under his guidance we were conducted to two or three spots, where The Instigator inspected rodeos of animals in his charge. We arrived at the Section house of Polvareda about midday, and found that our host had prepared an alarmingly sumptuous repast for his influx of visitors: as course followed course, roast ducks dodged the turkey, and were pursued by plum pudding, etc., we began to wonder if our host thought that meal would have to last us for the fortnight of our trip. But we discovered that he came from the West of England, and had not forgotten the ideas of hospitality current in that part of the world. Rumour had it that he himself had been seen carrying about pails of scalded milk at 4 a.m. This proceeding explains the delicious Devonshire cream and butter we are enjoying.