e
indicated the presence of fresh troops in the donga below, and he
consequently set about shelling it. Mac's regiment departed for the
trenches at this juncture, and so missed the excitement. They kept
along the shore for a short distance, then turned to the right, and
started straight up the steep, narrow badly-graded paths towards the
more or less flat summit, where they were to relieve an infantry
battalion. The sun was hot, and the way was steep, not to mention the
weighty burden of equipment. The cool sea drew farther away as they
soared gradually skywards, panting and perspiring. They reached their
trenches at last, pushed themselves along ditches too narrow to take
simultaneously both them and their gear, cast loving epithets at
telephone wires which caught their rifles, and waited interminable
times for the man ahead to move on. Towards midday, after dodging
backwards and forwards, time and again, like a freight train in a
railway yard, they collapsed at last in their appointed positions.

By evening Mac was thoroughly settled in his new home, and no longer
did he regard his situation as being in the least unique. He reviewed
the field of fire, studied the landscape, rather an extensive and
interesting one; and had a few long-range shots at Turkish trenches.
There was really no call for this, but it was rather amusing to be
potting away, at last, at an enemy position.

His trench was not an exciting spot, separated, as it was, by a ravine
from the enemy, and being only the protective flank of their own
position.

The mounted men were soon accustomed to the new life, and in three days
they might have been at it for ever. The days passed in a not
unpleasant routine. The fresh, bright, beautiful dawns were slightly
chilly, the early mornings were far from unpleasant, though the noonday
hours were warm, and afflicted with flies and smells; but, beneath the
shade of outstretched blankets and oil-sheets, the troopers whiled away
the time, sleeping mostly, some writing and some playing cards. There
was no reading material in those days.

The afternoon hours dragged drowsily past, until, with the lowering
sun, they woke to prepare the evening meal, the largest of the day.
Culinary operations were strictly limited by the short supply of water,
so that meals were usually confined to bully-beef, biscuits, marmalade,
bacon, or Maconochie. Both Colonials and Turks having completed their
evening repast, the c