corners, we packed it and paraded at six, and marched off to the quay,
where the _Aurania_, our homeward transport, lay. Here we gave in
revolvers, carbines, blankets, etc., were split up into messes, and,
after much waiting, filed off into the fore part of the ship,
descended a noisome-smelling funnel by an iron staircase, and found
ourselves on the troop-deck, very similar to that of the _Montfort_,
only likely to be much more crowded; the same low ceiling, with
cross-rafters for kit and hooks for hammocks, and close-packed tables
on either side.

More C.I.V. had arrived, and the quays were swarming with soldiers and
civilians. Williams had decided to stay and see something of Capetown,
and was now to get his discharge. There were a few others doing so
also. He was discharged in form, and drove away to the Mount Nelson
Hotel, returning later disguised as a civilian, in a long mackintosh
(over his uniform), a scarf, and a villainous-looking cap; looking, as
he said, like a seedy Johannesburg refugee. But he was free! The
Manager of his hotel, which, I believe, is the smartest in South
Africa, had looked askance at his luggage, which consisted of an
oat-sack, bulging with things, and a disreputable-looking bundle.

At about three there was a great shouting and heaving of the crowd,
and the High Commissioner came on the scene, and walked down the quay
through a guard of honour which we and the Infantry had contributed to
form, industriously kinematographed on his progress by a fat Jew.
Several staff-officers were with Milner, and a grey-bearded gentleman,
whom we guessed to be Sir Gordon Sprigg. Milner, I heard, made a
speech somewhere. Then a band was playing, and we were allowed half an
hour off the ship. Williams and I had our last talk on the quay, in a
surging crowd of khaki and civilian grey, mingled with the bright hats
and dresses of ladies. Then bells began to ring, the siren to bellow
mournfully, and the band to play valedictory tunes ("Say _au revoir_
and not goodbye," I thought rather an ominous pleasantry). We two said
good-bye, and I squeezed myself up the gangway. Every inch of standing
room aboard was already packed, but I got a commanding position by
clambering high up, with some others, on to a derrick-boom. The pilot
appeared on the bridge, shore-ropes were cast off, "Auld Lang Syne"
was played, then "God save the Queen." Every hat on board and ashore
was waving, and every voice cheering, and so we ba