40 DAYS IN THE OPEN 



a railway train almost invariably stops and goes 

 backward for a good share of the time. It looks 

 as if there existed some sort of a " combine " to 

 prevent the fisherman from making connections 

 with the place where he knows bliss is waiting for 

 him. It took the train six hours to go fifty miles ! 

 They called it an "accommodation"; but by the 

 way that fisherman growled you could see that he 

 did not realize that he was being accommodated. 

 He did finally get to Doaktown, where his guide 

 lived, and found the aforesaid gentleman waiting 

 for him at the station in response to a telegram 

 sent the night before. His name was George at 

 least it ought to have been and he was a clean- 

 looking, husky fellow about thirty-five years of 

 age. Close at hand was Bucephalus adjusted to a 

 buckboard. (Bucephalus was the prancing steed 

 which had consented to haul us to Caine River.) 

 He was not handsome except in behaviour; in that 

 he was a beauty. Habakkuk had evidently not 

 seen Bucephalus when he wrote : " Their horses are 

 swifter than the leopard." The duffle was piled on 

 behind the seat, a bag of oats was given the place of 

 honour on top of the duffle, and Bucephalus, gently 

 and with infinite caution, began to move. A sense 

 of security took possession of the Preacher's soul 

 with the first step that that horse took. There was 

 something dignified and assuring about his move- 

 ments that left the mind absolutely free to reflect 

 upon the beauties of nature, untroubled by any 



