_6.30 p.m._ We sail, the Gurkhas and Sikhs giving their respective war-cries, something like that of the Maoris which the New Zealanders sing. Two other boats leave at the same time, the _Alaunia_ having 6,000 troops on board. We all steer different courses on account of submarines. _9.30 p.m._ The last post sounds, played excellently by a Gurkha, and I turn in, sleeping on deck on account of the heat. They are neat little men, these Gurkhas, something like the Japanese, dressed in wide hats, shirts overhanging the short breech, putties and black bandoliers; bayonets in black cases, and their native weapon, the kukri, in a black case. Curiously enough, they are not British subjects at all. They are natives of Nepal, governed by the Maharajah of Nepal, and he is quite independent, except for having to pay a salt tax to China. I believe, though, that this payment has now stopped, or is about to stop. The Maharajah lends his male subjects who enlist to the British Government, and they train them as soldiers, in return having them to fight our battles when necessary. Altogether there are about twenty battalions of 20,000 men, and since the outbreak of war the Maharajah has practically forced every able-bodied man to enlist. They are good soldiers, but absolutely lost without their white officers, for they are just like children. _July 23rd, 9.30 a.m._ Sea rough and ship rolling. Ugh! I do feel ill. _10.30 a.m._ Four blasts on the hooter call us all to boat drill, with life-belts. _July 24th, 8 a.m._ We are passing Rhodes on our starboard, and are, therefore, entering the danger zone for submarines. It is reported that there are two about. No destroyer to escort us, so I suppose we are safe. Feel much better now. Captain Koebel, of the Queen’s, on board; friend of Parnell. Since outbreak of war he has been with Egyptian Army, now going unattached to Gallipoli for his two months’ leave. Taking his holiday by going into battle. _7.30 p.m._ Had boat drill to-day. Gurkhas thoroughly enjoying it. Gurkha guards posted all round the ship on lookout for submarines, with orders to fire when one comes in sight. They are watching intently, and I really believe would rather appreciate the fun if one came along, so that they could show off their marksmanship. We do not arrive at Lemnos till five to-morrow afternoon, so we have still plenty of time to be torpedoed. Passing plenty of islands, but not a sign of a ship anywhere. Beautiful moonlight evening. Skipper playing chess with Captain Simpson of the Gurkhas. Other officers sitting about reading. Only fifteen officers all told—white officers of the Gurkhas and Sikhs, and a few unattached. _July 25th._ Three months ago to-day the landing, and Achi Baba is not taken yet. _2 p.m._ Entering Lemnos Harbour. It is very hot now, and the water dead calm. The harbour is full of transports and warships, and on shore there are large camps in all directions. _July 26th._