rack-room grew more noisy. At
half-past nine the roll was called, and the orders read out for the
following day, and Jack was not sorry when the time came to turn in.
Crouch came over to see if he understood the preparation of his cot.

"The feathers in these 'ere beds grew on rather a large bird," remarked
Joe, referring to the straw mattress, "but they're soft enough when you
come off a spell of guard duty or a day's manoeuvrin'."

The bugle sounded the long, melancholy G, and the orderly man turned
off the gas. Our hero lay awake for some time listening to the heavy
breathing of his new comrades, and then turned over and fell asleep.

The bright morning sunshine was streaming in through the big windows
when the clear, ringing notes of reveille and the cheery strains of
"Old Daddy Longlegs" roused him to consciousness of where he was.

"Now then, my lads, show a leg there!" cried the sergeant.

Jack stretched and yawned. Yes, it was certainly a rough path, but his
mind was made up to tread it with a good heart, and this being the
case, he was not likely to turn back.

CHAPTER XVI.

ON ACTIVE SERVICE.

"A voice cried out, 'I declare here is the tin soldier!'"--_The Brave
Tin Soldier_.

A brilliant, clear sky overhead, and such a scorching sun that the air
danced with the heat, as though from the blast of a furnace; surely
this could not be the twenty-fifth of December!

But Christmas Day it was--Christmas Day in the camp at Korti.

[Illustration: "It was Christmas Day in the camp at Korti."]

Among the pleasant groves of trees which bordered the steep banks of
the Nile glistened the white tents of the Camel Corps. Still farther
back from the river lay fields of grass and patches of green dhurra;
and behind these again an undulating waste of sand and gravel, dotted
here and there with scrub and rock, and stretching away to the
faintly-discerned hills of the desert. The shade of the trees tempered
the heat, making a pleasant change after the roasting, toilsome journey
up country.

Here, though hardly to be recognized with their ragged clothing and
unshaven faces, was gathered a body of men who might be regarded as
representing the flower of England's army--Life Guards, Lancers,
Dragoons, Grenadiers, Highlanders, and linesmen from many a famous foot
regiment; all were there, ready to march and fight shoulder to shoulder
in order to rescue Gordon from his perilous position in Khartoum.

Every