52 Coriacou. 21 May, 1891. Behind I stuck in the spurs. The next moment the pony and I were off the ground and flying up in the air on the result of the queer back jump is has been my lot to experience. I lost the right stirrup, but both of us come down another second safely, and I was still my good luck, in the saddle. The darling pony then tried to kick the back of my head with his hind feet, but after application of the spur, caused him to change his mind and to rear so that I threw we were both going over backwards. I then hit the little dear on the head between the ears as hard as I could with the knob of my umbrella, whereupon the pony got all four legs again and shook his head vigorously but then began to know each other more intimately, and Monte Pony went off at a peculiar double shuffle unlike any other pace that I have experienced. Was not a trot, it was not a fast walk, nor an amble nor a canter, but a kind of combination of all three modes of equine progression with something peculiar added. What that something was I didn't know, made I know now, all I can say is that I had to sit tight and hope that the ligaments holding up my liver was sufficiently strong to bear the strain and to keep that viscus in its proper place. Fluttering and rolling and twitching of the little Weltham as it rounded 'kick'em Harry' were not in it at 53 Coriacou. 21 May, 1891. all, and but for my six nickers on the Waltham, I believe should have been my "horse-pick" on my charming Coriacou pony. We passed through Delbridge and drove riding along the stubble, cut corn fields, for often every crop the stubs are cut close to the ground, and miss the stumps sticking up. And he bent by the ruins of what must have been once quite a mansion. The stone walls remained and on the parapets were ornaments carved in stone. We rode through a place called Baie d'Iron which indicated that is iron word to fine water, and here through Mr Brument's influence a deep well had been dug by the Parochial Board of which he is in the leading members. The well was dug to the depth of 25 feet and no water was got, then the two men of Coriacou abandoned the work, for, as they said, there is now well in the island deeper than 25 feet, "who have dug 25 feet fine" and these cannot be taken in the place. The Rev. D. Brument pointed out that the lay of the land showed that the water from the low-water-tide must pass below the surface and he urged his colleagues to go on digging, but all to no use. At last he offers to bear the expenses of the further digging operations provided that the Parochial Board repaid him the money if water were found. This the wise men of Coriacou