fully you keep below the
sand-bag parapet, you may be struck down at any moment."

A few minutes later ten men came hurrying along the street, and joined
Jack and the volunteer. They had just been relieved of picket duty, and
tackled the meal which had been preparing for them with the greatest
gusto. A stalwart, sunburnt set of young Englishmen they were. Dressed
in the usual riding kit and shirt, with sleeves rolled up to the elbow
and slouch hat upon their heads, they looked capable of the toughest
fighting. Nearly every one of these young fellows was the younger son
of gentlefolks in England. Restless young spirits, full of pluck and
go, who had failed in their examinations at home, or could not settle
down to the humdrum life of an office in London. One could easily
imagine that only a few years before every one of them was the pride and
joy of some particular public school in old England--the kind of boy who
captained the football or cricket teams, and with the roar of his
schoolfellows' cheers behind him carried the leather to the back of the
goal-posts of some opposing team; or perhaps the calm, big-limbed, young
hero, dressed in white flannels and shirt, who stood fast at the wickets
and saved the day for his comrades, sending the strongest balls
delivered to him away to the boundary. That is the kind of lad that
most of these had been, and now, under vastly altered circumstances,
they showed the same sort of spirit. Throwing themselves upon the
ground in the shade, they ate their meals with a good appetite. Then,
pulling out their pipes, they made a circle, and listened eagerly to
Jack's news.

In the middle of a glowing description of Glencoe and the storming of
the heights of Talana Hill a horn sounded in the distance, and instantly
all scuttled into the bomb-proof shelter. They were not a moment too
soon. Less than five seconds later a huge shell shrieked just above
their heads, and, striking the house opposite, exploded with a terrific
flash and roar, shattering the walls to pieces.

"That's bad luck!" one of the volunteers snouted; "it has smashed up our
sleeping quarters, and has set them on fire. Tumble up, you fellows,
and set to work to put the flames out!"

Jack joined the others, and helped to fling water on the flaring
timbers. The fire was soon put out, and they returned once more to
continue the yarn.

"Well, you've seen a good deal of service already, Somerton," said one
of the