With the unexpectedness that marks all things in a
time of war, the next noon found him steaming across the Cape Flats,
with Maitland in sight. Two days later, they were loaded on an empty
hospital ship returning to Durban. Piquetberg Road was child's play
now, for the front was almost in sight. The voyage had been beastly;
but after it had come the real beginning of things. Natal, in those
days of late February, had seemed deserving of its name, a true
Garden of Africa. The crossing was now a memory of heavy grades, of
verdant country, of ripened fruits. There had been the week's delay
at Pietermaritzburg where they had tasted a bit of civilization in
the intervals of completing their outfits; there had been the brief
stop at Ladysmith, already recovered from her hardships of the year
before, then the crossing the border into the Transvaal where the
verdure slowly vanished to give place to the dreary wastes of red-
brown veldt. At Johannesburg, he had manufactured an excuse for a
long letter to Ethel who--
"Show a leg there!"
The sergeant's voice at his ear called him back to the realities of
life. He sat up as alertly as if he had slept upon eider-down.
Pages:
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108