skin. Its head floated in the water and nodded to and fro with a most
uncanny motion with every ripple of the bay.

The wet season was coming on, and the chill winds went through my
khaki drill uniform. The sky was overcast, and the bay, generally a
kaleidoscope of Eastern blues and greens, was dull and grey.

At "A" Beach I examined the pipes and tanks of the water-supply system
and had a chat with the Australians who were in charge. I drew a small
plan, showing how the water was pumped from the tanks afloat to the
standing tank ashore, and suggested the probable cause of the sand and
dirt of which the C.O. complained.

This done I found our own ambulance water-cart just ready to return to
our camp with its nightly supply. Evening was giving place to
darkness, and soon the misty hills and the bay were enveloped in
starless gloom.

The traffic about "A" Beach was always congested. It reminded you of
the Bank and the Mansion House crush far away in London town.

Here were clanking water-carts, dozens of them waiting in their turn,
stamping mules and snorting horses; here were motor-transport wagons
with "W.D." in white on their grey sides; ambulance wagons jolting
slowly back to their respective units, sometimes full of wounded,
sometimes empty. Here all was bustle and noise. Sergeants shouting and
corporals cursing; transport-officers giving directions; a party of
New Zealand sharp-shooters in scout hats and leggings laughing and
yarning; a patrol of the R.E.'s Telegraph Section coming in after
repairing the wires along the beach; or a new batch of men, just