The daily morning journal and courier., 1903-07-06

: Dunbar procession, and
 .le youngsters cheer the ungain-
 nimals that fitted in so well with
 5ectacles of eastern splendor, my mind went off to other scenes. in lands where the camel is used as a beast of burden, or as swift carrier of mes- sages over burning sands and waterless deserts. Here in London the beasts carried dark-skinned men arrayed in gaudy silks, who smiled as the plaudits of the school children met their ears. have seen camels carrying gaily-at- tired Afghans; men of magnificent phy- sique, men who dressed in gorgeous robes and splendid turbans, men who were fighters and hunters, but the set ting was not the same as here in peace full old England. -.-~.
 When the mimic Dunbar was over I went behind the scenes to touch and handle the yellow-brown brutes, who seemed to bring the past back to me on the wings of fancy. There was one fine fellow in particular who resented every rough touch upon his nose line, and roared. and rolled his eyes, and bared ~ strangers hand was laid upon him. He had beautiful eyes, this child of the des- ert, eyes that were full of life, fine great brown eyes, that had touch of the midnight lit by moonlight in them. His head was ugly, a bony mass of shapelessness, a cross between the reindeer and the horse; the upper lip lay high above the teeth, the lower dropped beneath the yellow fangs. No man would have called the brute beau tiful, and as looked at him the veil of time was rolled away, and once again stood a bushman, amongst my bush. man mates on the dusty track that led from Southern Cross towards Coolgar- die Goldhelds
 Three thousand men were there, men from all climes. men of all nations, men who spoke all tongues, Afghans. Japs, Swedes. Germans, Americans, English men, Australians. All kinds of animals were waiting for the moment to march; horses. mules, donkeys, camels; and the greatest of these were the camels. Slender-limbed, narrow-fianked, dark skinned cameIs from India. Big, gaunt, yeliow-dided, savage brutes from Afri- ca and Asia: light-colored, pale-eyed, massive-dimbed, sleek-coated, big hearted camels from South Australia (the best breed the world owns for pluck and endurance). .ssss
 It is the head Of this gaunt brute in the Agricultural hall that conjures up that scene, for there is something sinis- ter about the wide-opened eye, and the pendulous lip, the far-reaching neck, with it's undulating curves, and the back-fiattened ears. How well I re- member the scene, the wagons loaded to the topmost height, drawn up on the side of the dusty track, the horses tethered by their bundles of fodder, the mules straying here, there, everywhere, stealing a mouthful where they might, the barking of dogs the bleating of goats. and the cursing of men. Then, all at once, a howl of terror, wild shrfek of agony, then a babel of sound as men drop their work and charge across towards McLachlan's store that fronts on the track. The sun is blazing < down upon us from a mighty plain of unbroken blue, the forest lies all round us, red haze of dust rises up from the track that the wagon wheels have cut, like a mound in the broad heart of na- ture. Through the haze notice cou- pie of hundreds of camels kneeling, waiting to be loaded; by the camels stand the Afghan drivers in their blue blouses and blue baggy trousers, com mon workaday crowd devoid of all pie xuresqueness. But right at the head of the ~eolumn, where the red dust rises like cloud, nothing is discernable but the long neck and vindictive, snake-like head of a bull camel, just such head and neck as this I see in a London hall. Yet it is towards this point that the digger s are rushing. It was from this point that those two or three awful yells had come. strain my eyes through the red rust. I catch sight of; dim forms through the red haze, but above. and over all, looms the long neck and the bony frontlet of the brown bull. All the rest of the train are kneeling, chewing the cud; this beast stands alone upright .I..$
 The dust Is so thick that I cannot see either his legs or his barrel. cannot see what lies at his feet. can scarcely see anything, for the red dust is full of alkali and the gentle breeze that is blowing lifts it into my eyes, yet rush on with the crowd, for know that something out of the ordinary has hap- pened to stir that mob of diggers.
 They are men not easily moved; but once set in motion nothing will stop them. We close in round the head of the column of camels, and then through the haze of dust see something that makes me pause. The diggers see it, too, and they, too, check their noise. A figure is lying right at the feet of the big brown bull, a figure in blue, baggy trousers and blue blouse; the turban lies a yard away spotted with blood. look at the figure in the dust again. Then involuntarily I look at the head of the camel and note that the jaws are dyed with blood, that the yellow teeth are red with the same dark red stain. We close in silently, and many mans hand drops to his hip pocket, and more than one 'sgun" comes out There is a shapeless mass of something between the read 3Afghan's body and the bull cameps knees, something that a few moments before had been living mans forehead and scalp; it is only. crushed, bone and hair mingled with dirt and blood now. >.
 Dick Stanhope steps to the front,