CHAPTER III
CARMELITA ET CIE
"THOSE boots comfortable?" asked John Bull as they crossed the great parade-ground.
"Wonderfully," replied Rupert. "I could do a march in them straight away. Fine boots too."
"Yes," agreed the other. "That's one thing you can say for the Legion kit, the boots are splendid—probably the best military boots in the world. You'll see why, before long."
"Long marches?"
"Longest done by any unit of human beings. Our ordinary marches would be records for any other infantry, and our forced marches are incredible—absolute world's records. They call us the 'Cavalerie à pied' in the Service, you know. One of the many ways of killing us is marching us to death, to keep up the impossible standard. Buck, here, is our champion."
"Waal, yew see—I strolled crost Amurrica ten times," apologised the Bronco, "ahittin' the main drag, so I oughter vamoose some. Yep! I can throw me feet considerable."
"I've never been a foot-slogger myself," admitted Rupert, "but I've Mastered a beagle pack, and won a few running pots at school and during my brief 'Varsity career. What are your distances?"
"Our minimum, when marching quietly out of barracks and back, without a halt is forty kilo-
62
