I could do nothing on foot. I heard the uneasy brutes trampling and bellowing in all directions. I went to bed sad at heart, and, like St. Paul's crew at Malta, "wished for the dawn." With the earliest streak of light I caught my horse, and galloped round the paddock without a sight of the missing animals. In despair I turned towards the shore of the large salt-water lagoon which made one side of the enclosure. In the grey light I fancied I saw a dark mass at the end of a cape, which stretched far into it. I rode for it at full speed, and discovered my lost "stock-in-trade" all lying down in the long marshy grass. They had struck out straight for their last known place of abode, but had been blocked by the deep water and the unknown sea--as doubtless the lagoon appeared to them in the darkness. Shortly after breakfast we resumed our journey, and made St. Kitts, a cattle station some ten or twelve miles on the western side of Belfast. The Messrs. Aplin were there, having taken it up a year before. The stock-yard was more substantial, as became a cattle station. Our hosts were cultured and refined people, not long from England; like myself, enthusiastic about pastoral pleasures and profits. All our work lay ahead. How bright was the outlook! how dim and distant the shoals and quicksands of life's sea! We sat long into the night, talking a good deal of shop, not wholly unmingled with higher topics. I remember we decided that cattle stations were to improve in value, and ultimately lead to a competence. How little could we foresee that the elder brother was to die as resident magistrate at Somerset--an unborn town in an unknown colony--and the younger, after nearly thirty years' unsuccessful gold-mining, from Suttor's Mill to Hokitiki, was to make a fortune in tin at Stanthorpe! That the writer--bah! "Fate's dark web unfolded, lying," did not keep him from the soundest sleep that night; and we again made a successful morning start. The start was good, but the day was discouraging. The cattle were safe enough in the new yard, though rather bedraggled after twelve hours of mud up to their knees. However, there was water enough where they were going to wash them up to the horns, and the grass was magnificent. The rain came down in a way that was oppressive to our spirits. The sky was murky; the air chilling. Our whips soon became sodden and ineffective. My companion had a bad cold, which deprived him of all of his voice and most of his temper. The dog Dora would hardly bark. Worse than all, the track was difficult to find. We drove hard for hours, doubting much whether we had not lost our way. My comrade was sure of it. And It was about the filthy close Of a most disgusting day,