s of her become so, and this I will not risk.

Our ride over here was a sufficiently ridiculous affair, owing to the
misbehaviour of the pack-horse, for it was impossible upon this occasion
to manage with as little luggage as usual, so we arranged to take a
good-sized carpet-bag (a most unheard-of luxury), and on each side of
it was to be slung a rifle and a gun, and smaller bags of bullets, shot,
and powder-flasks, disposed to the best advantage on the pack-saddle.
This was all very well in theory, but when it came to the point, the
proper steady old horse who was to bear the pack was not forthcoming!
He had taken it into his head to go on a visit to a neighbouring run, so
the only available beast was a young chestnut of most uncertain temper.
The process of saddling him was a long one, as he objected to each item
of his load as soon as it was put on, especially to the guns; but
F---- was very patient, and took good care to tie and otherwise fasten
everything so that it was impossible for "Master Tucker" (called, I
suppose, after the immortal Tommy) to get rid of his load by either
kicking or plunging. At last we mounted and rode by a bridle-path among
the hills for some twelve miles or so, then across half-a-dozen miles of
plain, and finally we forded a river. The hill-track was about as bad as
a path could be, with several wide jumps across creeks at the bottom
of the numerous deep ravines, or gullies as we call them. F---- rode
first--for we could only go in single file--with the detestable Tucker's
bridle over his arm; then came the chestnut, with his ears well
back, and his eyes all whites, in his efforts to look at his especial
aversion, the guns; he kicked all the way down the many hills, and
pulled back in the most aggravating manner at each ascent, and when we
came to a creek sat down on his tail, refusing to stir. My position was
a most trying one; the track was so bad that I would fain have given my
mind entirely to my own safety, but instead of this all my attention was
centred on Tucker the odious. When we first started I expressed to F----
my fear that Tucker would fairly drag him off his own saddle, and he
admitted that it was very likely, adding, "You must flog him." This made
me feel that it entirely depended on my efforts whether F---- was to be
killed or not, so I provided myself with a small stock-whip in addition
to my own little riding-whip, and we set off. From the first yard Tucker
objected to go