On our left was "Duntroon" (named after the Australian West Point). In
front of us was a peculiarly shaped hill called "Whale Back." We did
not live in the trenches themselves, as they were continually falling
in and had to be cleaned out again practically every day. Our supplies
were brought within about three miles on a light tramway. Sometimes we
went short, as this train had a habit of turning over when rounding a
corner and emptying our much-needed tucker in the bottom of the gully.

From the rail-head, which was also the end of the pipe-line, food and
water were loaded onto camels; and as I had seen something of camel
transport in western Queensland, I was for a few weeks put in charge of
the camel-loading. Camels are curious beasts and know to an ounce the
weight they carried yesterday, and if you attempt to put on them one
jam-tin more they will curse you long and loud, end up with some very
sarcastic and personal remarks, and then submit to the injustice under
protest. They are very revengeful and will harbor a grudge for days,
waiting their chance to bite your arm off when they can catch you
unawares. A camel's load has to be equal weight on each side, and it
was some problem making a ham and a side of beef balance a case of
canned goods. These camels were a mongrel breed, anyway, and poor
weight-carriers. We usually put an eight-hundred-pound load on a camel
in Queensland--I have seen one carrying two pianos--but these beasts
would not carry more than two hundred pounds. A camel has never really
been tamed and they protest against everything they are asked to do.
They growl and swear when made to kneel, and make as much fuss again
when urged to get up. Their skin never heals from a cut or sore, but
they can have no feeling in it, for the Arabs simply stitch a piece of
leather over the place. An old camel is all shreds and patches. They
have to be provided with separate drinking-places from the horses, for
they put germs in the water that give the horses some kind of disease.