adually a lessening of the heat told of coming evening. A little
water arrived and was distributed in small potions. Mac was conscious
that those who came periodically to the hollow to do for the wounded
all that lay in their power were performing fine actions of
self-sacrifice. It grew cool, and Mac stirred himself to expect aid
from the rear; word had come, too, that a large Imperial force would be
sent up at nightfall to relieve the tattered remnant of the garrison,
who had dwindled to a desperate handful from attack after attack by the
enemy through all the long day, and who were almost light-headed from
fatigue. The hours still dragged on without anything happening, and
Mac almost feared they had been forgotten. At last, shortly after he
had heard a voice say it was eleven o'clock, some one came into the
ravine, and inquired in the dark who were there. Few answered, for, it
seemed to Mac, most of them were too far gone. All those who could
look after themselves had long ago drifted farther down the ravine.

"Who are you?" sang out Mac.

"I'm an Auckland stretcher-bearer."

"Well, if you can show me the way, you can take me back. I can't see,
but I can walk all right."

"I dunno how I'm goin' to get you out of there. There are too many
wounded round you."

"Oh, if you show me where to tread I'll be all right. You might as
well take me back. I'm the only one here who can walk," said Mac
appealingly.

After a little more persuasion, he picked his way over the bodies, and,
Mac, swaying a little, stood up. He forgot to take the case of his
glasses which he had been using as a pillow, though he had remembered
afterwards that the glasses themselves were still on the parapet where
he had been wounded. He picked his steps carefully over the prostrate
forms, and then, grabbing the Ambulance man firmly by the belt,
stumbled after him up the slope. They toiled down the long ridge,
falling frequently into hidden holes in the thick scrub; and all the
time the rifles blazed along the ridges and the bullets zipped past
them in the darkness. They reached the dressing-station, where, from
the sounds which reached his ears, it seemed to him many men were
lying, and a crowd passed constantly to and fro. A medical officer
took Mac in hand, dressed his wound as well as might be--for there was
no water for such purposes--and gave him a drink. Though Mac protested
he could quite well walk, the M.O. insisted on putt