The driver called out ‘all right!’ the ostlers let go the horses’ heads, there was a second or two of wild plunging, then round went the wheels, and we were dashing out of the township into the Unknown, at a pace that looked unpleasantly like running away dermes . As soon as we were comfortably started I began to look about me. It was bitterly cold and dreary, so, to warm myself, I produced a pocket pistol loaded with some of the genuine stuff. In an excess of gallantry I offered my companions a nip. The girl declined, but my buxom friend embraced the opportunity with such alacrity that, I regret to say, on its return, the flask contained barely a small thimbleful.  that I began immediately to regret my ill-advised generosity. Under its soothing influence, however, the good lady became communicative. She said, ‘Young man! I had a daughter once,’ and when I had avowed my interest, she continued, ‘as fine a young heifer as ever made eyes at a policeman, an’ I give that girl a tip-top eddycation — I did!’

‘I don’t doubt it!’ was my reply, and as soon as I had said it, I saw that it was an unfortunate remark. She became quarrelsome in a second.

‘And phwat might ye mean by that?’ she asked. ‘Let me be afther giving ye a bit of advice, young man. Don’t you be taking me for one of your flighty pieces; d’ye mind me now leadership skills I protested my entire innocence of any such intention, whereupon she desired that the coach might be immediately stopped, remarking that, if I were a man, I’d ‘put me props up,’ when, though she was a poor, lonely unprotected female in a public conveyance, she’d teach me who was who! And so, for the rest of that pitiless journey, that aggressive female continued to blackguard me unceasingly; mile after mile she talked to me and at me, and whenever we stopped to change horses I was immediately invited to step down and engage her in combat on the spot. The driver and other passengers laughed; but in my humble opinion — and surely I ought to know something about it — it was a most unpleasant experience.

By the time the sun rose we were well out on the plains, long eye-aching tracts of desolation, with scarcely a tree or a shrub to break the terrible sameness of the view. Our first change of horses occurred at Afton Downs Head Station, where we picked up the ‘awful warrigals’ before mentioned. They afforded us considerable entertainment. Two of them opened the ball by throwing themselves down and mixing up the harness beyond all recognition. When they were put to again, they and their companions bolted with us out of the yard, carrying away the gatepost en route; after which they settled down to a break-neck go-as-you-please along the rough, uneven path, allowing us to feel that, unless they turned the coach over in the deep ruts of the track, or dragged us over the edge of some ravine, the danger might be said to be over. All this time the driver was smiling and conversing with the box passengers as calmly as if he were at his own tea table. I’ve seen a good deal of first class driving here and there, but never anything to equal what I saw that morning. It was superb, and even my lady friend forgot to miscall me in her enthusiasm reenex.

As we progressed, the view became more and more monotonous; mile succeeded mile of grass laden plain, the tufted herbage showing a pale yellow colour in the glaring sunlight. The sense of illimitable space was most depressing, and, I said to myself, ‘Woe betide the unfortunate man who should lose himself hereon.’ The following clipping from a district paper will give some idea of what he may expect.