370 Life of Audubon. 



trunk is gasping to swallow this book, and I must put it 

 in and be off. 



" August 24. Wind east, and hauling to the north- 

 east — all good for the Ripley. We are at Halifax, Nova 

 Scotia, and this is the way we got here : — Last night at 

 eleven we seated ourselves in the coach ; the moon shone 

 bright, and the night was beautiful ; but we could only 

 partially observe the country until the day dawned. But 

 we found out that the road was hilly and the horses lazy, 

 and after riding twenty miles we stopped to change 

 horses and warm ourselves. Shortly the cry came, 

 'Coach ready, gentlemen.' In we jumped, and on we 

 rode for a mile and a half, when the linch-pin broke, and 

 we came to a stand-still. Ingalls took charge of the 

 horses, and responded to the hoot of the owls, which 

 sounded out from the woods, and the rest of the party, 

 excepting Coolidge and myself, slept soundly, while we 

 were enduring that disagreeable experience of travellers 

 — detention — which is most disagreeable in this latitude, 

 and especially at night. Looking up the road, the vacil- 

 lating glimmer of the candle, intended to assist the driver 

 in finding the linch-pin, was all that could be distinguish- 

 ed, and we began to feel what is called ' wolfish.' The 

 man returned, but found no pin — it could not be found, 

 and another quarter of an hour was spent in fumbling 

 round with ropes to tie our vehicle together. At length 

 the day davv'ned beautifully, and I ran ahead of the coach 

 for a mile or so to warm myself; and when the coach 

 came up I got up with the driver to try to obtain some 

 information respecting the country, which was becoming 

 poorer and poorer the further we travelled. Hunger 

 again now began to press us, and we were told that it was 

 twenty-five miles from the lost linch-pin to the breakfast- 

 house. I persuaded the driver to stop at a wayside tav- 

 ern, and inquire the prospects for getting some chickens 



