They fired. In the meanwhile the rest of our body had dismounted, and
had buckled the forelegs of each horse so that it might not unduly
wander. This clever idea was nearly crowned with success. Then tents
were got out--without any hurry. They were pitched in a leisurely
fashion. Then the fire was lighted, also without flurry. The two
scouts now cantered back knocking over a bush on their way. Shots were
heard in the distance, and our camp was leisurely, very leisurely,
broken up. The tents were, with some difficulty, placed on the backs
of the horses, and most of our troopers mounted without serious
difficulty. One certainly was thrown, and another had to hold firmly
to his horse. Then we advanced. We again dismounted. One of our body,
after some negotiation, collected the reins of our horses. We fired,
and again leisurely mounted. Then our troopers hurried off.

And when the magnificent display was over, I could not help thinking
how good it was of these gallant Colonists to come so far that we
might learn so much. True, we had seen something a little like the
mounted infantry evolutions in the displays of our own light Hussars.
Again, soldiers have been known before this to pitch and strike
a tent. Still, it was deeply gratifying to find history repeating
itself, inasmuch, as in the Victorian evolutions there was no
difficulty in conjuring up the picture with the popular title, "The
Grandson teaching the Grandmother--how to suck eggs!"

* * * * *

HOW LONG?

_EXTRACTS FROM A TRAGIC INTERNATIONAL ROMANCE, WRITTEN UP TO DATE._