It was not child's play tackling those horses. Some of the kind-hearted station folk in the backblocks had sent down some wild warrigals of the West; bucking brumbies that beat the band; old outlaws off the grass that the station hands could never master. But Colonel Cox ("Fighting Charlie" we called him) had in his command some of the crack rough-riders of Australia. And it was a joy to see these men tackle the outlaws. There were Crouch of Wagga, McDonald of Barrington, Whiteley of Wellington, Bullock of Melbourne, Sievewright of Gunnedah, Kennedy of Gloucester, Rex Moffatt of Goulburn, Harry Heath of Moree, and a score of others. Nearly every man in the regiment could sit a buck, or puff nonchalantly at his pipe while his mount pigrooted merrily. So when the wild horses were led forth there were hundreds volunteering for the honour of riding the rebels. One after another the horses were saddled up, and while the regiment cheered itself hoarse, there was enacted again and again the old-time struggle for mastery. There were plunging and reefing and rooting and sidling and rearing and bucking, as the panting chargers swung this way and that in vain endeavour to dislodge the riders. But the bush boys stuck to the saddles as the Old Man of the Sea stuck to Sindbad the Sailor, and one after another the bucking brumbies were broken and led away. Then came the first mounted parade. A squadron of Scots Greys or Life Guards might have kept better line; they might probably have wheeled with more order and precision for each troop here had a few half-broken colts prancing and dancing all over the shop, but--well, somebody said that these troops would compare favourably with any body of mounted infantry in the world. Certain it is that when, one fine day, the officer commanding, Colonel Cox, accompanied by the Brigadier, Colonel Ryrie, made a careful inspection of the whole regiment, every one from the officer commanding down was satisfied. And certain it is that we sang the Australian Light Horse war song with unusual enthusiasm-- Sound the good old bugle, boys, Let's sing another song, Sing it with a spirit That will send the troops along; Sing it as we'll sing it When we're twenty thousand strong, When we go marching through Germany! Hurrah! Hurrah! We're off to Germany! Hurrah! Hurrah! the A.L.H. are we! We're rounding up the bushmen from the Darling to the sea And we'll go marching through Germany! How the bushmen shouted When they heard the joyful sound, "'Fighting Charlie's' going to lead, So pass the word around; Australia wants another batch Of bushmen to astound Poor old Kaiser Bill of Germany!" CHAPTER II WE SAIL AWAY CEYLON MISSED--LAND-HO--AT ADEN--BAKSHEESH--"THE TRANSPORT TRUMPETER"--A LITERARY COINCIDENCE--ON HISTORIC GROUND--THE PYRAMIDS--PAST AND PRESENT--AN EGYPTIAN HANDKERCHIEF--MA'ADI. "Who's the Jonah?" That was mild.