There are three pickets and a corporal in charge; each of the three
takes two hours on and four off, which works out at about four hours
on watch for each, but less if reveillé is early. Personally I don't
mind the duty much, even after a long day's march. On a fine still
night two hours pass quickly in the lines, especially if one or two
picket ropes break, and the horses get tied up in knots. If there is a
lack of incident, you can meditate. Your head is strangely clear, and
for a brief interval your horizon widens. In the sordid day it is
often narrowed to a cow's.

_July 21._--The same old game; harnessed up and remained ready. There
was a sudden alarm about three, and we jumped into our kit, hooked in,
and moved off, only to return in a few minutes. The General possibly
gave the order to see if we were ready. He reviewed us before we went
back, and seemed pleased. I heard him admiring the horses, and saying
there was plenty of work in them. "You've been very lucky after that
shell-fire the other day," he said.

A much-needed convoy turned up from Bethlehem to-day with ammunition
for us. We took our waggon down in the morning and filled it. A box of
matches per man was also served out. In the evening came the joyful
news that we were to start tomorrow, two days' fighting expected.
Williams and I made a roaring fire of an ammunition box in honour of
the occasion, and a grand supper of mealy-cakes and tea, and smoked
and talked till late. Summing up our experiences, we agreed that we
enjoyed the life thoroughly, but much preferred marching to sitting
still. Both thoroughly fit and well, as nearly all have been since
campaigning began. In numbers, I hear, we are twenty-two short of our
full complement.