The great dream of the Khedive, his Nationalists and German agents failed because of the courage and shrewdness of "K" and his men. While the world waited for the Holy War and the fall of Egypt, the great Australian host was quietly landing on Egypt's shores. In this army were such men as the Kangaroo Marines—fearless, tireless, and ready for adventure. The tramp, tramp of their feet made traitors shiver and flee; their physique, their chins, their corded arms spread over the Delta and the desert a sense of might and courage.
"There can be no rebellion. The Australians are too big, too strong. Allah is against us," said the wise men in the little hamlets by the Nile.
"These are white men—not black," muttered an effendi to his friend, as the Australians marched through intriguing Cairo. Like many Egyptians, he had imagined Australians to be of a nigger mould.
"Yes, infidels and sons of dogs," growled a priestly fanatic.
"What men—what guns—Allah preserve us!" said many more who had talked revolution for a while. This, truly, was a bloodless climax to the schemes of Germany, Turkey, and the Khedive.
Along the sun-baked road to Mena marched the Australians. They were treading a road made by a great Khedive for the Empress Eugenie to see the Pyramids in comfort. When they halted they were beneath the shade of the historic piles of stones. Napoleon's soldiers had been there, so had Gordon's and Kitchener's heroes. Now these sons of the Motherland found themselves at the beginning of another historic mission.
"There's been a lot of overtime on that job," said Bill Buster to his pals when nearing the Pyramids.
"Wha built them?" inquired Sandy of Claud.
"Rameses built one."
"What for?"