A QUICK TRIP THROUGH " THE BUSH.'' 325 



I was urging on my plucky nag with spur and voice, 

 and she seemed to understand the necessity of effort, 

 " devouring the ground " beneath her flying feet, while 

 overhead the forked lightning lit up the inky sky. It 

 was an impressive sight, its very suddenness adding to 

 its grandeur. I must have resembled the phantom rider 

 of the Norwegian ballads, who only appears on days when 

 kings or great men die ; tearing across the country flat 

 upon his fiery steed, with the black clouds of misfortune 

 and death behind him. Like a cannon-ball the cyclone 

 struck us, and carried my stout mare forward as irresisti- 

 bly as if she had been a feather. It was impossible to 

 stop or to turn aside. Forward! was the only word ; and 

 the fact that a tiny lake lay directly in front of us made 

 no difference whatever to the wind god, and into the 

 water we went, horse and man, in obedience to his 

 mighty breath. This seemed to pacify him instantly, or 

 else he had done his worst, for the wind fell as promptly 

 as it had arisen, leaving me to haul myself out by an 

 overhanging branch, none the worse for my bath, while 

 the poor pony waded ashore at the nearest beach ; and 

 together we sought our companions, scattered far and 

 wide, like dead leaves before the blast. No one had been 

 hurt ; and we were congratulating ourselves upon the 

 escape of the part}'' all through our lunch hour, which we 

 prolonged to several, resting our tired horses and excited 

 guides, who whiled away the time telling stories of less 

 fortunate parties, overtaken by these sudden tropical 



