At Crescent City the next morning, Captain Hastings' private launch met us, and we moved down Haw Creek to his place, arriving about noon. The same afternoon I made arrangements for board with Jim Hughes (a young married man), who had lived on the place several years and who was head stable man. Monday morning I mounted the pony which was given me, and was off for the station. I reached the station late that afternoon, making slow time because the roads were very bad and swampy, and by sunrise the next morning I was five miles on my way back to the farm with saddle bags full of mail and packages. The pony was a sturdy little rascal with shaggy mane and tail. His name was Billy, and the more I rode him the more I liked to have him carry me swiftly to and from the mail station. Whenever I went into his stall to feed him he would always put his shaggy head over my shoulders and whinny as if to say, "I'm ready for it." I stayed around the ranch a few weeks until I tired of the monotony of those daily rides, and even Billy could not hold me. So one morning I gathered my few belongings together, tied them up in a little brown sweater, bade all good-by and proceeded on foot to Barbersville. I took to the road early in the morning, that I might have ample time to make the distance in two days. The road was a sandy one, leading through desolate, lonely woods, the same road over which the little pony had borne me many a time. It was difficult walking, for there were many swamps and miles of sand roads. I plodded silently and slowly on my way, arriving at the half way camp about dusk. This was a lumber camp, established temporarily, and I knew some of the boys, as I had been accustomed to pass there on my way to the post office. Often I used to make small purchases in Barbersville for the boys at this camp, and they were glad to shelter me over night. We sat around the fireside, relating stories. By sunrise the next morning I was on my way, and at four o'clock that afternoon I strolled into town. I walked down the railroad track to where an empty box car was standing, and after gaining an entrance I proceeded to change my socks and trousers, for I had braved more than one stream between the camp and the station. Folding my wet garments in the brown sweater, I strapped it on my shoulders, and walked down the railroad track, a hike towards Sanford. Nightfall came shortly, and I became hungry. Through the dusk I sighted a small house, so I left the track and struck out across the marshy lands, towards it. After crawling under several wire fences and beating off a dog with my stick, I finally arrived at the door. I rapped, and at my call there appeared an old lady. I informed her of my predicament, and she went to the cupboard and brought forth a big chunk of meat and a piece of bread, which was eagerly accepted, I can assure you. I thanked her kindly, and turned back to the railroad.