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136 CARAVAN DAYSroad ;and as soon as we had disposed of him weencountered the runaway.That was a most impressive sight.A powerfulyoung Clydesdale horse at full gallop, drawingan iron agricultural roller, which bumped aboutwith a hideous banging, clattering and thumping,bore down upon us. We happened to be waitingat the moment just at the top of the perilous hillthat leads down to the ferry, and it was not at alldesirable that either the roller or SIEGLINDAour horses took fright should set off in thatdirection.Herbert took the horses' heads whileI barred the way, standing in the centre of theroad and playing to the best of my ability thepart of a windmill. I failed to stop the runaway,but at least I turned him. He went thunderingoff up a lane to the right, and the turmoil diedawayin a cloud of dust. Theifback brake broughtus comfortably down the hill, and we reached theferry to find my Partner gazing with longing eyesin the opposite direction. As neither she nor theOld Campaigner had overtaken us on their wayfrom Edinburgh and as we were already longafter our appointed time, they had becomerather anxious about our movements. The OldCampaigner, she told me, had departed in a taxito search the whole of the surrounding neighbour-