Calm he seemed, but strangely daring; some weird weapons he was bearing
Built of twisted wire and iron, and a dozen yards of rope.
At the dawn a startled sentry, through the early morn-mists peering,
Saw a dozen shackled foemen down the sand dunes slowly drag.
Sore they seemed, and quite dejected, while behind them, cool, collected,
Swearing at a busy sheep-dog, rode their drover, Got-a-Fag.
To the Colonel's tent he drove them, brandishing a stock-whip featly,
Briskly calling "Heel 'em, Laddie!" While the warrior of rank
Sniffed, and then exclaimed with loathing, "What's this smell of burning clothing?"
Said the drover, "Got 'em branded 'A.—Broad Arrow'—off-side flank.
"A," he drawled, "stan's for Australia, an' the Gov'ment brand's in order.
'Crown—G.R.' upon the shoulder marks 'em for the King an' flag.
