rits.

All were on their feet again by dawn of the sixth day, and in odd
moments between work peered over the side to catch a glimpse of the low
dim line of the Tasmanian coast. They kept along the land for a few
hours, and then, forming single line-ahead, steamed slowly up the
beautiful sunny waters of the Derwent, with white curving beaches and
bush-clad hills on either side. Five ships berthed at once for fresh
water. In the afternoon the troops were marched through the town, and
the people cheered heartily and hurried in great excitement to see
them, bringing cake and fruit and beer. Some of the boys, keen on
adventure, slipped quietly out of the ranks and down side streets, and
in the evening other hard cases garbed themselves as stokers, walked
boldly past the guard and spent the merriest of evenings in Hobart, to
return, perhaps, to a term of C.B. which the holiday was well worth.
The other five vessels watered in the morning, and by evening the fleet
was again at sea, steaming slowly southwards in a fog towards the
southern point of Tasmania. In Morse code each ship in turn mournfully
wailed her number, and endeavoured to keep station in the thick pall.

For day after day they swung over the long seas which always sweep
across the Australian Bight, but the troops ran about the ships as if
they had never been anywhere else, and the horses stamped and whinnied
unanimously when the boys stood ready to feed, and looked eagerly for
more than the martinet of a Vet would allow.

The Vet was a brusque man whose job was to look after the horses and
not to concern himself with the fine points of military lore,
distinctions of rank, or the airs of those officers who thought
themselves not made of ordinary clay. He was impatient with people who
were incompetent or who hindered him in his work. So on the occasions
when Captain O'Grady violated the sanctity of the fodder-room by
stowing there some of his infantry equipment, the Vet would angrily
demand:

"Mac! What's that blanky stuff doing there? Is that some more of
O'Grady's blanky rubbish?"

"Yes. He said you said he----"

"I don't care a blank what he said. Heave his blanky stuff out of
here. O'Grady and his blanky stuff can go to hell. Next time he tries
to bring his rubbish in here you tell him to get to blanky blazes with
it! See?"

"Righto! I'll do that."

Mac was not soaked in military etiquette, but he rather hesitated, when
the Captain-Qu