THE BAGGAGE STARTS. 
75 
the French consul I am indebted for a charming little 
white fox, the drollest and prettiest little beast I ever saw. 
Having dined on board the “ Artemise ,” we ad¬ 
journed at eleven o’clock to the beach to witness the 
departure of the baggage. The ponies were all drawn 
up in one long file, the head of each being tied to the 
tail of the one immediately before him. Additional 
articles were stowed away here and there among the 
boxes. The last instructions were given by Sigurdr 
to the guides, and everything was declared ready for 
a start. With the air of an equestrian star, descending 
into the arena of Astley’s Amphitheatre, the cook then 
stepped forward, made me a superb bow, and was 
assisted into the saddle. My little cabin-boy accom¬ 
panied him as aid-de-camp. 
The jovial Wilson rides with us to-morrow. Unless 
we get his head round during the night, he will have 
to sit facing his horse’s tail, in order to see before him. 
We do not seem to run any danger of falling short 
of provisions, as by all accounts there are birds enough 
in the interior of the country to feed an Israelitish 
emigration. 
