with the chickens tapping the hollow floor methodically and the calves bawling ludicrously.  Schwanie and I for mail before breakfast – made sketch of P.O.  After a little talk with Frost we were on our way.
     This last drive was the maddest of all for we only stopped for meals, sketches and punctures till we got to Buffalo.  The day part is with little interest, but the night riding was enjoyable up to the second puncture.  We flew along singing and whistling at the tops of our voices.  The town we came into after midnight had a strange look.  Once  we lost our way.  The first puncture occurred about 3 a.m.; it was enjoyable however as we all needed to stretch.  The night was mysterious.  Off to the north a strange cold white glow was quivering in the sky – to the east were the Pleides but a couple of hours higher the countryside all still and dark.  The second blowout, a few moments after the other was fixed was more discouraging – dawn came with this one, preceded by the great brilliant morning star.  A heavy lowery sky came into being with a cold, damp wind, at the top of the hill four great pines stood against the east.  The third blowout came a few miles further