Colonel Sam Killem had watched it all from the corner of the parade ground. For him it was an anxious moment. He was a broad-minded Australian who realised the need of experienced Britishers like Jones for the training of his men. But he was also aware of the national prejudice against the imported man. If Jones had adopted the usual way in the British regiment, that is, clapping the offender in the guard room and formally charging him with "insubordination in the ranks," Sam knew that his prestige as a sergeant-major would have dropped fifty per cent. However, he was well pleased to see him handle the man in the Australian manner.
"Made good that time, Jones," said the colonel with a dry grin as the sergeant-major came forward.
"That's the only way with these men, sir."
"Glad you know it. By the way, I know that man. He half killed one of the Mounted Police two years ago. He's three-quarters blackguard and one-quarter of a good fellow; but we'll make a man of him. Put him in orders to-night for the lance stripe. I always believe in making N.C.O.'s out of these rascals."
"Splendid idea, sir," said the sergeant-major, saluting and falling out.
Next day Lance-Corporal Grouse commenced a new career—that of a gallant soldier and an Australian gentleman.
Another interesting incident occurred during the training. Side by side with the Kangaroo Marines lay the Melbourne Nuts, a battalion of superior persons. You see, the Kangaroo Marines were nominally a Sydney crowd. Therefore the Melbourne boys showered on them all the envy which Melbourne has for Sydney. To understand this point thoroughly you must have lived in Australia. Between Melbourne and Sydney there exists a feud as fierce as an Italian vendetta. This animosity crystallises the more general hatred of the respective States—Victoria and New South Wales. Both sides think they are the Lord's Anointed. A Governor-General in any speech must be careful to whitewash both States with the same degree of eyewash. Friendships, fortunes, and reputations have been lost in this really amusing controversy. Indeed, they are like the farmers of Kerry—they go to law if a hen roosts for a second in the enemy's barnyard.
Picture the scene then—two corps side by side, and imagine the language. The first trouble arose through a pioneer of the Kangaroos dropping a shovelful of dirt in the lines of the Melbourne men. The offender was Bill Buster.
"Get out of this, ye Sydney rattlesnake," chirped a youth, looking out of his tent.
"Worm!" exclaimed Bill contemptuously.