ouacs, the throng
of toilers among the great piles of stores, the mules and water-carts
crunching along the gravel, the wounded waiting embarkation--Mac saw
what might be called the throbbing heart of Anzac. It throbbed, for
the most part, in darkness; but, here and there, caught in the
half-light from lamps among tiered piles of boxes, he had odd glimpses
of the splendid fellows as they went about their work; and he was
thrilled by the grandeur and manhood of it all.

Hours passed. Then a musical call through a megaphone, "Walking-cases
this way," woke them to attention. They were all embarked on a
lighter, and were towed, first by a pinnace, and then by a minesweeper,
out into the bay, until high above them, aglow with green, red and
yellow lights, reared the steel sides of a hospital-ship. A steam
crane swung each giddily upward, and deposited him on the clean white
deck.

Mac didn't quite know where he was that night. He accepted a dose of
medicine and some kind words from a medical officer, absorbed a cup of
hot cocoa and a piece of bread and butter--almost forgotten luxuries
and found himself at length in a comfortable bunk with white sheets.
Very faintly from the heights across the water floated sounds of
strife; and Mac, with a sigh of supreme satisfaction, turned over and
went to sleep.

When he woke in the morning, a white girl--a sister--was standing
beside his bunk. He was shy--he felt so rough. It seemed ages since
he had seen a woman.

At ten o'clock, the light cases for Lemnos transferred to a
mine-sweeper, and thence to a fleet-sweeper. All the afternoon the
vessel steamed across sunlit seas and in the evening entered Mudros
Harbour, passing through the great fleet that lay there, transatlantic
liners, men-o'-war ancient and modern, hospital-ships, transports and
small craft of every description, to an anchorage on the east of the
harbour. The patients were landed in launches, and made their way, in
a long straggling line of decrepits, to the field hospitals.

Mac found a resting place in the 1st Australian Stationary Hospital,
and passed a week there. He was relegated to a large marquee, the
sides of which were always rolled up. In the centre stood two tables,
one occupied by medicines and the other by the dishes and food of the
establishment. Stretched on the ground was a large tarpaulin, whereon,
with a blanket apiece, eighty or more _hors de combat_ heroes had their
abode. Everyth