At last we got away, on October 19. The weather for the past few days had not been altogether reliable; now windy, now calm-now snowing, now clear: regular spring weather, in other words. That day it continued unsettled; it was misty and thick in the morning, and did not promise well for the day, but by 9.30 there was a light breeze from the east, and at the same time it cleared. There was no need for a prolonged inquiry into the sentiments of the party.-What do you think? Shall we start? -Yes, of course. Let’s be jogging on. There was only one opinion about it. Our coursers were harnessed in a jiffy, and with a little nod-as much as to say, See you to-morrow -we were off. I don’t believe Lindstroem even came out of doors to see us start. Such an everyday affair: what’s the use of making a fuss about it?