No; I can't harness up one horse. But I can four, which compels me to
back up again to get to my beginning. Having selected Sonoma Valley for
our abiding place, Charmian and I decided it was about time we knew what
we had in our own county and the neighbouring ones. How to do it, was
the first question. Among our many weaknesses is the one of being old-
fashioned. We don't mix with gasolene very well. And, as true sailors
should, we naturally gravitate toward horses. Being one of those lucky
individuals who carries his office under his hat, I should have to take a
typewriter and a load of books along. This put saddle-horses out of the
running. Charmian suggested driving a span. She had faith in me;
besides, she could drive a span herself. But when I thought of the many
mountains to cross, and of crossing them for three months with a poor
tired span, I vetoed the proposition and said we'd have to come back to
gasolene after all. This she vetoed just as emphatically, and a deadlock
obtained until I received inspiration.

"Why not drive four horses?" I said.

"But you don't know how to drive four horses," was her objection.

I threw my chest out and my shoulders back. "What man has done, I can
do," I proclaimed grandly. "And please don't forget that when we sailed
on the _Snark_ I knew nothing of navigation, and that I taught myself as
I sailed."

"Very well," she said. (And there's faith for you! ) "They shall be
four saddle horses, and we'll strap our saddles on behind the rig."

It was my turn to object. "Our saddle horses are not broken to harness."