nd whose thoughts would go
with him on his unknown travels. Finally he parted with his dogs.

The next morning, no longer a stockman, but a soldier of the King, he
turned his back on the station, a home of pleasant memories, and
travelled slowly the long road to the camp. His mare had come straight
from a long spell of grass, and it was late in the afternoon of the
following day before he dismounted finally in his squadron lines. Here
already, in the middle days of August, were several thousand splendid
men--a battalion of infantry, a regiment of mounted rifles, a battery
of artillery, medical corps, engineers, signallers and service corps;
fine men all, accustomed to life in the open, strong of build, active
of movement and infinitely amused with everything around--splendid
comrades with whom to embark on a campaign.

Mac made his way to his tent, where he was straightway at home with
mates of previous camps and station days.

CHAPTER II

MAC EMBARKS FOR OVERSEAS

Six weeks dragged slowly by. A few days after they came into camp,
there were ten great transports ready to take overseas the
Expeditionary Force of 8,500 men, horses, guns, limbers and stores, and
always there had been orders to be ready for instant embarkation and
that the probable date of departure was a week ahead. Constantly that
day was put off, and again put off, delay followed delay, while the men
speculated on the cause, condemned the authorities and blasphemed
generally. The War would be over before they could get anywhere near
the front, and they chafed vainly. The troopships lay in the harbours,
the men were ready in camp, why not embark?

With the exception of this uneasiness of mind, nothing spoilt the full
enjoyment of the spring days. All day the sun shone bright and strong
from a blue sky, the warmth tempered by pleasant breezes from the sea
or the mountains, and at night the stars stood out brilliantly in the
great dome above. Used to many camps in the past, accustomed also to
cooking and to battling generally for themselves, they were as much at
home as ever they were in the lines of white tents, and for most of
them these were lazy holidays after the hard life of the bush and the
sheep-runs. The army was generous in its supply of food, and much good
butter, jam, meat and bread, which would have been luxuries indeed in
the months to come, went to waste in Awapuni incinerators. And day
after day came cars from towns a