90 WAR: A SCOUTS' PATROL 



surgeons in Australia. After a quick examination, 

 " It is quite useless/' he said; " nothing can be 

 done for that," and he smiled when I said, " Oh, 

 that won't do, doctor ; I want to get away to the 

 war." Examinations by other doctors followed, 

 only to convince me that nothing could be hoped 

 for, at any rate, for the time, from an operation. 

 To recover some use of the hand by massage was 

 all that could be done, and then perhaps later 

 an operation might be effective. The hand and 

 wrist were still sore and inflamed, and pieces of 

 bone, splintered by those big teeth, kept working 

 out. 



In Brisbane I found a cable awaiting me from 

 a private and reliable source, with the information 

 that the powers that be were after all considering 

 the advisability of making the move that I had 

 urged. Should it come off, I knew there would 

 be a chance for me to get employment as a guide, 

 and this chance was too good to lose. The 

 crippled hand made impossible any pretence of 

 passing the medical examination for ordinary 

 service. 



Mr. Lewis, a young friend on the look-out for 

 adventure, joined me, and we started by the 

 first available boat for Cape Town, taking three 

 Queensland-bred horses with us. 



On arrival at Cape Town I had interviews with 

 the Imperial Secretary, and with the Governor- 

 General, who was good enough to send for me. 

 From the latter I heard that my proposal had 



