Royal Army Medical Corps has as faithfully won his medal as any that handled rifle. [Sidenote: _All hands and houses to the rescue._] Our "Kopje-Book Maxims" told us that "two horses are enough to shift a camp--provided they are dead enough." Either the camp or the horses must be quickly shifted if pestilence is to be kept at bay; yet in spite of all shiftings, of all sanitary searchings and strivings, the fever refused to shift; the field hospitals were from the first hopelessly crowded out; and the city of death would quickly have become the city of despair, but for the timely arrival of sundry irregular helpers and organisations that had been lavishly equipped and sent out by private beneficence. Such was the huge Portman Hospital. In the Ramblers' Club and Grounds, the Longman Hospital was housed; and here I found Conan Doyle practising the healing art with presumably a skill rivalling that with which he penned his superb detective tales. In the forsaken barracks of the Orange Free State soldiery, the Sydney doctors established their house of healing, assisted by ambulance men and ambulance appliances unsurpassed by anything of the kind employed in any other part of Africa. Australia, like her sister colonies, sent to us her best; and bravely they bore themselves beside our best. [Illustration: _From a photograph taken at Pretoria, June 1900_ Rev. T. F. Falkner, M.A. Chaplain to the Forces. Chaplain to the First Division and to the Guards' Brigade, South African Field Force, 1899-1900]