We had one hundred and forty horses aboard and two batteries of heavy artillery, besides our own armored cars. All the transports are crowded. We were passed by about ten of the other boats, and as they did so we cheered each other. The thin lines of khaki on all the ships will make a name for themselves. I'm proud I am one of them.
We've had a big dose of vaccine pumped into our arms to-day. This will be the last letter I send before I arrive, wherever we are going.
The Corinthian sailed from Quebec to Father Point, where a patrol boat arrived with orders. We then sailed into the Gulf, but toward evening we turned into the coast. When we passed Fame Point Light a small boat, which afterwards turned out to be another patrol boat, sailing without lights, [pg 010] flashed further orders to us. The Corinthian immediately turned round and headed back. The minute the patrol boat's signal light went out we were unable to distinguish it from the sea. The coloring is a good protection; even a boat, close to, sailing without lights, it is impossible to pick out. Apparently our orders were to cruise around until daylight and then sail for the Bay of Gaspé, and this morning at daybreak we sailed into that beautiful, natural harbor, which is big enough to accommodate the entire British fleet.
I expect that to the villagers living around this harbor all events will date from to-day—to-day, when the wonderful sight of twenty-five ocean liners drawn up in battleship formation in this quiet place, deserted except for an occasional visit from a river steamer or fishing craft, greeted their gaze.
Five gray fighting ships are mounting guard, and by their signals and pinnaces chasing backward and forward between the troopers are bossing the show. A corporal, [pg 011] a South African War veteran, as we looked at them, quoted Kipling's
“The liner she's a lady
With the paint upon 'er face,
The man o' war's 'er 'usband
And keeps 'er in 'er place.”
Towards noon a smart launch came alongside. Even at a distance the boys were quick to recognize our popular minister of militia, Sam Hughes, and a thundering cheer rang out. With him were several soldiers who threw bundles of papers aboard. These were printed copies of his farewell to the troops. His launch sailed by the ship, and then on to the next and so on, through the fleet.