nd that we all called home. Back
of that, for three thousand miles, stretched the country that held our
ain folk and love and joy and home and what a man fights for and
worships.

Every man had to be up on deck to see this sight. There were men there
paralyzed, who had never moved during the whole long journey, but the
saddest sight was to see the blind turning their sightless eyes in its
direction and smiling with ecstasy, and maybe it looked more fair to
these than to us who could see. How those boys cheered and cheered
again! What a new spirit pervaded the ship! All day laughter and
singing rang out, for there are no more patriotic troops in the world
than the Australian soldiers, and, East, West, Hame's best. Like the
old King of Ithaca we had wandered for years in many lands, but at last
had returned home, and soon would have Penelope in our arms.

But only the Westralians were really home, and some of these had two or
three hundred miles to go; for the rest of us there was still a
fortnight more in the old ship as we sailed across the base of
Australia to the eastern States.

CHAPTER XXX

IN AUSTRALIA

When the ship drew in at the Melbourne wharf I made up my mind to escape
the fuss and hero-worship, as I was a Queenslander and knew that none of
my folks were among the crowd waiting at the gates. I went to the
military landing-officer and asked him if I could not go out another way
and dodge the procession. He said the orders were that every officer and
man was to be driven in special cars to the hospital. I then went down
onto the wharf and approached one of the ladies who looked as if she
would play the game and I said to her: "If I ride in your car, will you
promise to do me a favor?" She said: "I would do anything for you." I
then said: "Well, let me out as soon as we get outside the gate." She
demurred a good deal but I reminded her that no Australian girl I knew
ever broke a promise. When we got outside I boarded a tram-car, which
had not gone far before it had to stop to let the procession pass. Of
course, every one would see that I was a returned soldier, but there was
nothing to show that I was _just_ returned. I stood up in the tram-car
with the rest of the passengers and cheered and threw cigarettes and
remarked loudly to all and sundry: "Some more boys come back, eh?" But
my well-laid plans were entirely spoiled as my friends in the automobile
called put, "Here, Knyvett, you