mbled up the soft yielding cliff, slid back
to the starting point several times, still puzzled why the Turks on the
opposite brink did not shoot, and at last found his officer near the
top, quite bewildered as to the whereabouts of his men. Mac, exhausted
with his exertions, was sent to report the night's events to the
Colonel, while his officer returned to guide the others up.

Table Top was a level, scrub-covered plateau, about four chains across,
flanked on the north, west and south by steep cliffs, and on the east
gently sloping up towards the higher hills. Mac found the Colonel on
the far side, answered his questions, heard from him that progress
everywhere had been splendid and that the brigade had disposed of all
its objectives, and then found a few spare moments to view the country
from this high point.

Dawn was breaking--just the same old beautiful dawn they had so often
watched silhouetting the trenches opposite and the hills beyond, but
now, with the exhilaration of victory thrilling through his body, Mac
stood there with the most glorious dawn of all his days, or of anyone
else's he thought, lighting the eastern sky.

From the heights of the Table Top, Mac surveyed the scene below him.
To his right as he faced the north, the Table Top was connected by a
series of ridges with the hill summits about a mile away, which the sun
was just topping. To his front the ground fell abruptly in a deep
ravine, beyond which lay ridge after ridge, and beyond again the high
range behind Anafarta, three miles away, all standing out clearly in
sun-topped ridges and shadow, in the refreshing air of early morning.
Out to sea were the two islands, rugged and beautiful as ever, which,
together with the whole glory of the morning, the hills and the sea,
were unconscious and unaffected by the battle of men developing on
those beaches and hills to decide the fate of nations.

The Anzac shore swept away to the north-west in a splendid curve to
Lala Baba, the point of Suvla Bay; and there, where no vessel floated
at sundown, lay now the strategy of the battle, a great fleet of
transports, warships, lighters, pinnaces and destroyers, encircled
already by a great torpedo-net. Farther out, every detail reflected in
the clear blue water, lay a dozen clean, sweet hospital ships. Already
round the little mound of Lala Baba were gathered small bodies of men,
horses and artillery, and occasionally Turkish shrapnel burst above
them.