Chugwater.

"Your name?" said Clarence, eyeing the sturdy young warrior.

"Private William Buggins, sir."

"You watch well, Private Buggins. England has need of such as you."

He pinched the young Scout's ear tolerantly. The sentry flushed with
pleasure.

"My orders have been carried out?" said Clarence.

"Yes, sir. The patrols are all here."

"Enumerate them."

"The Chinchilla Kittens, the Bongos, the Zebras, the Iguanodons, the
Welsh Rabbits, the Snapping Turtles, and a half-patrol of the 33rd
London Gazekas, sir."

Clarence nodded.

"'Tis well," he said. "What are they doing?"

"Some of them are acting a Scout's play, sir; some are doing Cone
Exercises; one or two are practising deep breathing; and the rest are
dancing an Old English Morris Dance."

Clarence nodded.