the proud designation
of "His Majesty's Australian Hospital-Ship."

CHAPTER XXIX

THE HOSPITAL-SHIP

Some people think that they have made a sea journey when they cross the
English Channel, and Dover to Calais holds for many the memory of an
age of misery. I don't suppose the provisions on these Channel
steamers have very great inroads made upon them by the passengers. The
soldiers have a song that well expresses experiences on this narrow
stretch of water.

"Sea, sea, why are you angry with me?
Ever since I left Dover,
I thought the ship would go over ----" (etc.)

But on the longer journey across the Atlantic from England to America
there is more time to get one's sea-legs, and on the last day or two
passengers begin to enjoy the sea journey. But this is quite enough of
the sea for any one but an amphibian. The three weeks journey from
America to Australia gets decidedly monotonous, and long before
sighting Sydney Heads and entering the world's "pearl of ports" every
one has had his fill of the sea. But lengthen that journey by three
and you have had enough sea travel for a lifetime.

Well, we left England and for an eternity sailed south, seeing land
only on one day and smelling it for a week. Then we clung to the end
of Africa for seven days and then sailed east for a decade till
Australia got in our way, and as it could not be passed without a long
detour, we were deposited on its soil. In nine weeks we only called at
two ports, Freetown on the west coast of Africa, and Durban on the east
coast. Freetown has the usual strong combination smell of nigger,
cinnamon, and decaying vegetation, in an atmosphere of heavy steam,
that characterizes all tropical towns inhabited by our "black brother."
We were told that this place had but a few years ago the pleasant
subtitle of "The White Man's Grave." If you served one year here in
the government service you were entitled to retire for life on a
pension, but the likelihood was that long before your term was up you
would retire to a six-foot-by-two allotment near the beach, in the
company of countless predecessors. But science had been at work here,
as at Panama, and wire gauze and the kerosene spray had captured the
first trenches of yellow fever and malaria, and against these weapons
of the medico all counter-attacks have been unavailing. Some strong
hand was ruling in this town, for the streets were spotless and the
dogs lean. And, oh,