DUCKOW. 
— guns, powder, shot, tea-kettles, rice, tents, beds, 
portable soups, &c. all stowed away,—when the de¬ 
sponding Wilson came to me, his chin sweeping the 
ground, to say—that he very much feared the cook 
would die of the ride,—that he had never been on 
horseback in his life,—that as an experiment he had 
hired a pony that very morning at his own charges, 
—had been run away with,—but having been caught 
and brought home by an honest Icelander, was now 
lying down—that position being the one he found most 
convenient. 
As the first day’s journey was two-and-thirty miles, 
and would probably necessitate his being twelve or 
thirteen hours in the saddle, I began to be really 
alarmed for my poor chef; but finding on inquiry that 
these gloomy prognostics were entirely voluntary on the 
part of Mr. Wilson, that the officer in question was full 
of zeal, and only too anxious to add horsemanship to 
his other accomplishments, I did not interfere. As for 
Wilson himself, it is not a marvel if he should see things 
a little askew ; for some unaccountable reason, he chose 
to sleep last night in the open air, on the top of a hen¬ 
coop, and naturally awoke this morning with a crick 
