ort lay at Lyttleton. So Mac and his cobbers had a few hours'
leave pending the departure of the southward ferry steamer at eight
o'clock, and they, in the meantime, went up the town to have a good
time and to turn out old friends. They did not waste these few short
hours, the streets rang with their enthusiasm, and the departing
steamer took away from the pier a singing, rollicking crowd of happy
warriors. Mac slept soundly on a table, and awoke in the morning to
find the vessel was berthing at Lyttleton.

Disembarking, they filed round the wharves to where two troopships lay
opposite each other, and embarked again on H.M.N.Z.T. No. 4, the S.S.
_Tahiti_. Mac grabbed what looked about the best bunk in the murky
depths of the 'tween decks which was the Squadron's alloted space, and
wrote his name in several places on the boards. The lucky ones got
breakfast during the forenoon, those who were lazy dodged fatigues and
slept in out-of-the-way corners in the sun, and so Mac and his cobber
Bill might have been found comfortably dozing on a great pile of onions
on the aft boat deck. They found such seclusion most satisfactory on
these turbulent days of movement, except for occasional visits to see
that no blighted trooper was trying to beat a fellow for his "possie"
in the hold. Trains kept rumbling out of the tunnel beneath the great
hills, bringing more troops, horses and stores, and all the afternoon
the gangways were crowded with these coming on board. By four,
embarkation was complete and a throng of people who had massed behind a
barrier to see the last of the troops, flooded on to the wharf.

Secrecy had been strictly kept as to the time of departure, and so the
public were few to what there might have been. Pretty girls were
wildly enthusiastic and were not particular as to how many troopers
they fondly took farewell of, women smiled and laughed, though there
were often tears in their eyes, and the men were laboriously humorous.
A band played airs which the bandmaster considered suitable to the
occasion, the troops, swarming on the railings and the rigging, sang
lustily snatches of song; and finally, amidst the fortissimo strains of
the National Anthem, a wild holloing from every one, and a bellowing of
fog-horns, the ships drew slowly away from the wharf. They manoeuvred
awkwardly out through the moles, while the throng on shore became but
one black shape beneath a sea of fluttering handkerchiefs.

That n