erely a cloak for enthusiasm, but even he would hardly
have guessed that these were the men who would win on Gallipoli the
praise of the greatest British generals, who called them "the greatest
fighters in the world." Soon the news of these bands "on the wallaby"
[4] at the call of country caught the imagination of the whole nation.
Outback was terra incognita to the city-bred Australian, but that these
men who were coming to offer their lives should walk into the city
barefoot could not be thought of. The government was soon convinced
that the weeks, and, in some cases, months that would be occupied in
this long tramp need not be wasted. Military training could be given
on the way, and they might arrive in camp finished soldiers.

So the snowball marches were at last recognized and controlled by the
government. Whenever as many as fifty had been gathered together,
instructors, boots, and uniforms were sent along, and the march partook
of a military character. No longer were they sundowners; they
_marched_ into town at the end of the day, four abreast, in proper
column of route, with a sergeant swinging his cane at the head,
sometimes keeping step to the tune of mouth-organs. The uniforms were
merely of blue dungaree with white calico hats, but they were
serviceable, and all being dressed alike made them look somewhat
soldierly. The sergeants always had an eye open for more recruits, and
every town and station they passed through became a rallying-point for
aspirants to the army.

Their coming was now heralded--local shire councillors gathered to
greet them, streets were beflagged, dinners were given--always, at
every opportunity, appeals were made for more recruits. Sometimes, to
the embarrassment of many a bushman whose meetings with women had been
few and far between, there were many girls who in their enthusiasm
farewelled them with kisses, though one can hardly imagine even a shy
bushman failing to appreciate these unaccustomed sweets!

The snowballs grew rapidly. Farmers let down their fences, and they
marched triumphantly through growing crops, each farmer vying with
another to do honor to these men coming from the ends of the earth to
deliver democracy.

"They're fools, you say? Maybe you're right.
They'll have no peace unless they fight.
They've ceased to think; they only know
They've got to go--yes, got to go!" [6]

By the time they reached the camp many of these groups had grown to