In front of the Rifle camp was a rural burial-ground, long abandoned, probably because there were not many people left to die in the district. It was of the rudest kind. No sculptured stone, not even a scratch of a chisel, distinguished one resting-place from another, but a block of unhewn granite was placed at each grave, and the Sappers and Miners, who were a most utilitarian corps, selected some of the largest and best of them to serve in the construction of their bridge over one of the narrow channels which join lake to lake. These same Sappers had hard work of it in building this bridge. The 10th company who laboured at it, worked entirely naked and up to their breasts in water for one whole day. It is no wonder that a few of them suffered from fever in consequence. The open country was finely diversified, with abundance of wood and water all around, within easy distance of the route. Long lines of storks flew overhead or held solemn reviews among the frogs in the meadows. As for the latter, they were innumerable, and their concerts by day and night would delight the classical scholar who remembered his Aristophanes, and who could test the accuracy of the chorus. Eagles soared overhead, looking out for dead horses; and vultures, kites, and huge buzzards scoured the plains in quest of vermin, hares, or partridges. Beautiful orioles, a blaze of green and yellow, gaudy woodpeckers, apiasters, jays, and grosbeaks, shrieked and chattered among the bushes, while the nightingale poured forth a flood of plaintive melody, aided by a lovely little warbler in a black cap and red waistcoat with bluish facings, who darted about after the flies, and who, when he had caught and eaten one, lighted on a twig and expressed his satisfaction in a gush of exquisite music. Blackbirds and thrushes joined in the chorus, and birds of all sorts flitted around in multitudes. The commonest bird of all was the dove, and he was found so good to eat, that his cooing was often abruptly terminated by a dose of No. 6.