k of the old year. I don't know how the others managed:
they must have got down somehow, for there they were in great force
when the eventful day had arrived.

This first journey was prosperous, deceitfully prosperous, as though
it would fain try to persuade us that after all there was a great deal
to be said in favor of a mode of traveling which reminded one of the
legends of the glories of the old coaching days. No dust--for there
had been heavy rain a few days before--a perfect summer's day, hot
enough in the sun, but not disagreeably hot as we bowled along, fast
as four horses could go, in the face of a soft, balmy summer breeze.
We were packed as tightly as we could fit--two of us on the coach-box,
with the mail-bags under our feet and the driver's elbows in our ribs.
The ordinary light dog-cart which daily runs between Maritzburg and
D'Urban was exchanged for a sort of open break, strong indeed, but
very heavy, one would fancy, for the poor horses, who had to scamper
along up and down veldt and berg, over bog and spruit, with this
lumbering conveyance at their heels. Not for long, though: every seven
miles, or even less, we pulled up--sometimes at a tidy inn, where a
long table would be set in the open verandah laden with eatables
(for driving fast through the air sharpens even the sturdy colonial
appetite), sometimes at a lonely shanty by the roadside, from whence
a couple of Kafir lads emerged tugging at the bridles of the fresh
horses. But I am bound to say that although each of these teams did
a stage twice a day, although they were ill-favored and ill-groomed,
their harness shabby beyond description, and their general appearance
most forlorn, they were one and all in good condition and did their
work in first-rate style. The wheelers were generally large, gaunt and
most hideous animals, but the leaders often were ponies who, one could
imagine, under happier circumstances might be handsome little horses
enough, staunch and willing to the last degree. They knew their
driver's cheery voice as well as possible, and answered to every cry
and shout of encouragement he gave them as we scampered along. Of
course, each horse had its name, and equally of course "Sir Garnet"
was there in a team with "Lord Gifford" and "Lord Carnarvon" for
leaders. Did we come to a steep hillside, up which any respectable
English horse would certainly expect to walk in a leisurely, sober
fashion, then our driver shook out his reins, blew