Little cared we for wind or weather, When Youth and I lived "there" together. So away. _Vogue la galere._ The dray, with Joe Burge and his wife, and Chase, the deerhound, went on ahead, while I, with Mr. Cunningham, a new companion, who had dwelt in those parts before my arrival, was to follow a day or two later with the herd. I had made a small exploring expedition a short time before in company with an old stockman; he, for a consideration, had guided me to a tract of unoccupied country. And to this new territory our migration was now tending. This experienced stock-rider--"an old hand from the Sydney side," as such men were then called in Victoria--was a great character, and a most original personage. He accompanied the dray, so that all might be in readiness for our arrival. Not that much could be done. But my all-accomplished chief servitor, the most inventive and energetic pioneer possible, would be sure to make some "improvements" even in the short interval before we arrived. Our first day's journey was most difficult. The cattle were loath to leave the spot to which they had become accustomed, and were troublesome to drive. However, with two good stock-whips, and the aid of Dora the cattle-dog, we got along, and reached Rosebrook, on the Moyne, close to Belfast. Mr. Roderick Urquhart, as manager for Mr. James Atkinson, was then in charge. He received us most hospitably. The cattle were put into the stock-yard for the night. My companion rode on to town, intending to rejoin me early in the morning. One may judge of the difficulty in "locating" tenants upon agricultural land in those early days from the fact that Mr. Urquhart was then supplying the first farmers on the Belfast survey with rations. For the first year or two this plan was pursued; after that they were able, doubtless, to keep themselves and pay the moderate rent under which they sat. Not that the Port Fairy "survey" was so fertile as that of Farnham Park--much of it was wet and undrained, much stony, and but fit for pasture; but it comprehended the greater part of the town of Belfast, and L5000 would not be considered dear now for 5000 acres, chiefly of first-class pasture land, comprising, besides a seaport town, an exhaustless quarry of limestone, a partially navigable river, and a harbour. I slept ill that night, oppressed by my responsibilities. At midnight I heard the continuous lowing, or "roaring" in stock-riders' vernacular, which denoted the escape of my cattle from the yard. Dressing hastily, I stumbled in pitch darkness through the knee-deep mud. It was even as I feared--the rails were down, trampled in the mud; the cattle were out and away. My anxiety was great. The paddock was insecure. If they got out of it there was endless re-mustering, delay, and perhaps loss.