Getting near Steele’s Post, I saw in front of me a man with an indescribable gait. He seemed to float along instead of walk. It was Furphy!
I hurried, but seemed to make no gain on him. I began to run. Near Courtney’s Post I was twenty yards from him, and called to a man to stop him. My quarry brushed past. I put on a spurt. I was within about five yards of him when, all of a sudden, he sank into the earth. As his head disappeared he smiled an oily grimace at me.
And I noticed that there were small horns behind his ears.
Q. E. D.
FOOTNOTES:
[11] Furphy was the name of the contractor which was written large upon the rubbish carts that he supplied to the Melbourne camps. The name was transferred to a certain class of news item, very common since the war, which flourished greatly upon all the beaches.—Eds.
FROM MY TRENCH
A clear, cold night, and in the southern air
Those far-off thunderings so often there;[12]
A Turkish moon is shining fitfully—