"Very," replied Selwyn, grinning. "He was sitting on a pine-trunk half-way up the Horseshoe. There were a few disintegrated remains of Juggernaut on the track, the bulk of the wreckage was down the valley."
Early in the afternoon a batch of recruits, amongst them Malcolm and Dick, left Christchurch for Port Lyttelton to embark for Wellington, and thence to Featherston Camp.
With a very few exceptions the men, although still in civilian clothes, bore themselves erect, and marched in a way that would have evoked praise from an English drill sergeant. The exceptions were those men who for some reason had not undergone military training while at school. Now they had cause to regret the omission. They were mere beginners at the great game of war, while others, younger in years, were already their seniors in the profession of arms.
At Featherston Malcolm worked harder than ever he did before, but it was interesting work. Drills and parades, from early morn till late in the afternoon, soon brought the detachment up to a state bordering upon perfection, and the word went round that the Thirty-somethingth reinforcements would be sent to France some weeks earlier than the usual time, thanks to the efficiency of all ranks.
There was one man, however, who proved a sort of stumbling-block--Rifleman Dowit. It was soon a standing joke that Dowit never could "do it" properly, except to grouse. Yet he was justified in his boast that he had put the Brigade Staff to ignominious flight.
It was on the bombing-instruction ground. The preliminary course with dummy bombs had been completed, and now came the exciting part of this particular branch of training--hurling live Mills' bombs.
A squad, including Carr and Selwyn, had been marched down to the bombing-trench, where each man had to throw three bombs over the parapet at a target twenty yards away. It was a bright moonlit night, which perhaps accounted for the good attendance on the part of the Brigade Staff to witness the operations.
"I wonder how Dowit will manage," remarked Dick to his chum. "The man can't throw straight, or anything like it. He'll be hitting the top of the parapet, and letting the bombs tumble back into the trench. I vote we impshie round a traverse when he starts."
"It wouldn't be a bad move to warn the sergeant," rejoined Malcolm.
The order to commence was given. Most of the men acquitted themselves well, including Carr and Selwyn. Then came Rifleman Dowit's turn.