effects of
things supernatural. Every sound, every moving leaf or blade was a
Turk. He had fired at a few nothings, and during a spell of silence he
was amazed to hear on his left a chattering in a strange tongue.

"Turks, be Jasus, they're in our trenches. Mother of Mary, preserve
us," said Paddy, crossing himself. He listened again. They were
chanting a weird dirge. It was something between a Highland lament and
a Hindoo snake song. Paddy was amazed. Life seemed to be a shorter
affair, and he pictured himself lying dead on the parapet with his
throat cut. His teeth were chattering, and his nerves on the run. At
last he managed to bellow out, "Stand to!" The half-sleeping men
jumped to their rifles and waited below the parapet.

"What's up, Doolan?" said the officer on reaching them.

"Turks in our trenches, sor. Heaven preserve us."

"Where?"

"There, sor! There, sor! Listen to them."

The officer listened. He heard the weird chanting. It wasn't English,
it didn't seem Turkish. What on earth was it, he wondered. At last he
made up his mind.

"Here, six of you fix bayonets, follow me," and down the communication
trench he crouched and crawled towards the left. They now neared the
weird chanting noise. The officer cocked his revolver and whispered
back, "Get ready, boys." Then, dashing round a bend, he burst on to a
dark-skinned group.

"Hands up!" he shouted.

"What's up, boss?" said a smiling dusky gent in khaki, with a New
Zealand badge on his shoulder.

"Who the deuce are you?"

"Maoris, boss, Maoris."

"Hang it all, I thought you were Turks. Good night."

"Good night, boss," shouted the laughing Maoris--the finest
dark-skinned gentlemen in the world.

CHAPTER IX

A BRAVE NEW ZEALANDER

There's a difference between the New Zealander and Australian, and the
difference is this: when an Australian says "Home," he means Australia;
when a New Zealander says "Home," he means the Old Country. The sense
of nationality is deep in the Australian's soul; the sense of
dependence and kinship is wrapped round the New Zealander's heart.
Australia is the older Dominion, and the Australian, like the Canadian,
is keen on running his own affairs. New Zealand is younger; many of
its first settlers are still alive, so their eyes and their children's
eyes are always turned to the land called "Home."

Fifty years hence the New Zealander will be like the Australian--a keen
exponent of n