d in its scales, tails, fins,
heads, and entrails complete. All that they got which was really eatable
was a small bun served in the morning, and boiled potatoes occasionally.

Nevertheless, these hardships would have been as nothing to Cameron if
they had not represented to him hate, pure and simple. He felt, and
perhaps justly, that if Wainwright had not wished to make him suffer,
these things would surely have been mitigated.

The day came at last when they stood on the deck and watched the strange
foreign shore draw nearer. Cameron, stern and silent, stood apart from
the rest. For the moment his anger toward Wainwright was forgotten,
though he could hear the swaggering tones from the deck above, and the
noisome laughter of Wurtz in response. Cameron was looking into the face
of the future, wondering what it would mean for him. Out there was the
strange country. What did it hold for him? Was God there? How he wanted
God to go with him and help him face the future!

There was much delay in landing, and getting ready to move. The men were
weak from sickness and long fasting. They tottered as they stood, but
they had to stand--unless they dropped. They turned wan faces toward one
another and tried to smile. Their fine American pep was gone, hopelessly,
yet they grinned feebly now and then and got off a weak little joke or
two. For the most part they glared when the officers came by--especially
two--those two. The wrath toward them had been brewing long and deep as
each man lay weltering through those unbearable nights. Hardship they
could bear, and pain, and sickness--but tyranny _never!_

Someone had written a letter. It was not the first. There had been others
on ship board protesting against their treatment. But this letter was a
warning to that captain and lieutenant. If they ever led these men into
battle _they_ would be killed before the battle began. It was signed by
the company. It had been a unanimous vote. Now as they stood staring
leadenly at the strange sights about them, listening to the new jargon of
the shore, noting the quaint headdresses and wooden sabots of the people
with a fine scorn of indifference, they thought of that letter in hard
phrases of rage. And bitterest of all were the thoughts of John Cameron
as he stood in his place awaiting orders.

They were hungry, these men, and unfit, when at last the order came to
march, and they had to hike it straight up a hill with a great pack on
their ba