tors,--if you have
ever been there, you know it all.

There was a voluntary service at six; two ships' lanterns and the men
all around, the background of sky and sea, and the strains of "Nearer
my God to Thee" rising up in splendid chorus. It was a very effective
scene, and it occurred to me that THIS was "the rooibaatjees singing on
the road," as the song says.

The next entry is from South Africa:

Green Point Camp, Capetown,

February 25th, 1900.

You have no idea of the WORK. Section commanders live with their
sections, which is the right way. It makes long hours. I never knew a
softer bed than the ground is these nights. I really enjoy every minute
though there is anxiety. We have lost all our spare horses. We have only
enough to turn out the battery and no more.

After a description of a number of the regiments camped near by them, he
speaks of the Indian troops, and then says:

We met the High Priest of it all, and I had a five minutes' chat with
him--Kipling I mean. He visited the camp. He looks like his pictures,
and is very affable. He told me I spoke like a Winnipeger. He said we
ought to "fine the men for drinking unboiled water. Don't give them
C.B.; it is no good. Fine them, or drive common sense into them. All
Canadians have common sense."

The next letter is from the Lines of Communication:

Van Wyks Vlei,

March 22nd, 1900.

Here I am with my first command. Each place we strike is a little more
God-forsaken than the last, and this place wins up to date. We marched
last week from Victoria west to Carnovan, about 80 miles. We stayed
there over Sunday, and on Monday my section was detached with mounted
infantry, I being the only artillery officer. We marched 54 miles in
37 hours with stops; not very fast, but quite satisfactory. My horse is
doing well, although very thin. Night before last on the road we halted,
and I dismounted for a minute. When we started I pulled on the lines but
no answer. The poor old chap was fast asleep in his tracks, and in about
thirty seconds too.

This continuous marching is really hard work. The men at every halt just
drop down in the road and sleep until they are kicked up again in ten
minutes. They do it willingly too. I am commanding officer, adjutant,
officer on duty, and all the rest since we left the main body. Talk
about the Army in Flanders! You should hear this battalion. I always
knew soldiers could swear, but you ought to hear