In
action or danger--quite another thing; up, then, just behind the
leading regiment....
"Arrived at Talat-ed-Dumm, too tired now to eat or drink (having
fed our animals) we lie, or rather, fall down on a blanket. In two
minutes we are dreaming that we are back in the 'old country,'
sitting in that cool breeze under the great sycamore tree; drinking
that fine old 'home-brewed,' and talking to the sweetest of all
women. Far away in the distance is the rumbling of a coach; round
the corner it comes into sight, the horses' hoofs thudding on the
hard old Roman road! The guard raises his long coaching horn to his
lips and blows a stirring call. Someone shakes us from behind! Lo!
we open our eyes and--gone is the lovely green country, the shady
trees and the coach! 'Get up! Reveille has gone'.
"All day we rest here, and shall move on the latter part of our
25-mile journey as soon as dark has fallen. Horses to water--but
luckily not far to go, and though two men have fainted with the
heat already, the majority are still 'merry and bright'.
"About 11 o'clock Talat-ed-Dumm becomes literally an oven; no
trees, no water, nothing but rock and dust--dust six inches deep;
the only protection, a single piece of canvas between one and the
pitiless sun! Gasping for breath, one reaches for the water-bottle,
but it is quite warm.
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