The English race recognised the service that was being done.
The Mother thanked her Child. Over the stormy sea had come the
soldiers of the Southern Cross to tell any Britons still remaining in
played-out Europe how war should be waged; how battles should be won.
The numbers of our gallant little body were small; still, we had
enough. Before our appearance "the country" had been arranged. In
the distance, near the southern entrance, were bushes; then, a little
nearer home, a second row; then, nearer still, a canvas erection
representing a fallen tree; then more bushes; and last, the door from
which we had emerged to receive the plaudits of the populace. First,
two of our number (after some slight hesitation) galloped (taking,
without much difficulty, the hedges on their way) towards the south.
They fired. In the meanwhile the rest of our body had dismounted, and
had buckled the forelegs of each horse so that it might not unduly
wander. This clever idea was nearly crowned with success. Then tents
were got out--without any hurry. They were pitched in a leisurely
fashion. Then the fire was lighted, also without flurry. The two
scouts now cantered back knocking over a bush on their way. Shots were
heard in the distance, and our camp was leisurely, very leisurely,
broken up.
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