NEW ZEALAND'S AID TO THE EMPIRE.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume XXXXII, Issue 53, 10 March 1900, Page 2

NEW ZEALAND'S AID TO THE EMPIRE.

Wellikqtom, March 9. The necessity for quarantining the transport steamer Gymerio on her arrival in New Zealand will not delay the departure of the Fourth Contingent. The men are to be placed on boatd ' during the enforced detention, mkMm va. work of fitting up will be oatried oukh'.v •xpeditiously. The cost of equipment and transport of the Fifth Contingent will be bom* by the Imperial Government, but only the Imperial Army rats of pay is allowed, the colony ninrßntiliirf BWi' difference between the Imperial ihe pay received by the previous contingents. ' <

TARAHAKI SECTION. ■ The following men hare been selected as the New Plymouth repnaMttthw for the Fourth Contingent:—B. Veale, New Plymouth; W. J Block; W. Allen, New Plymouth; N, » Crean, Albert Bond. These gfSrnlw despatched from, New Plymouth by|tiia mail train on Thursday morn{n£,~"liftii inßt. They will be joined at-fleiitrrf r Kill by the Waitara i W. Joll and G. Thornton. All the men have passed the local medical, shooting, and riding tests, but will, of course, have to go through fthe final test examination at Wellington His Worship the Mayer of nW - Plymouth, as chairman of the Petelelfs Committee, has received instroofcioßS - ' from the Premier to enlist volunte®i' for the Fifth Contingent. Applicants must be good riders and goodshot* and be able to pass the general medi* *>■> cal examination. There is praotfctfßy. no limit set as to the numb ecdLwmt. r required, though His Worship thinks. < I that 50 would oe a suitable number to send from Taranaki. In the ease el this contingent the Government provide everything. The first tests will > be held on Thursday afternoon, when all who have by that time sent in their names will be given the opportunity of showing whether they can comply with " ! ' the conditions.

* IN A MTT.TTARV HOSPITAL IN TIME ' ' " OFWAB. AFTER COLBNSO. (By a Colonial Norse.) (Written Specially for the Evening Post.) ' {Continued frmn, yesterday.) The position the situation —is everything when a bullet wound is .? ■ • in question. Private Dunbar has just one bullet hole, as innocent looking as any of the others; but in this instance it spells death, for the leadinits course has bruised the spinal cord. Private Dunbar has little pain (few suffer much in his condition), and speaks quite hopefully of the future. "I'll & all flght," he says, "when I get back tKe feeling in my Tegs." Alas, the feeling will never return. Yesterday he was a young man rejoicing in - his strength; to-day he is as helpless as a baby, and a- week or two hence the name of Private Dunbar will appear under the heading of " Died from wounds." A poor fellow wearing the - badge of the Connaught Bangers leans his head on hand and gazes mournfully around. His ear has been torn by a piece of shell, and the dressing has become dry and hard. "It is just throb, throb, inside and out," he sighs when questioned. We • try to cheer him. " .Now, Daly, the

, - nun will soon be easier, and you can look forward to the time when you will be telling the friends and the neighbours in Ireland how you killed ten Boers with your own right hand." But Daly shakes his poor bandaged flieadand speaks softly. "Troth, if I fold them that in Mayo they would" be K., - after killing me. 'Twas my own brother-in-law siz to me before I left, R "-.! ' And you call yourself an Irishman,' and I siz to him, 'I took the oath .ten yaup, ago,: and what would you have me to deF Would see me shot like a dog?' Then one replaces the bandage thinking meanwhile of the steange incomprehensibleness of the Irish character, of the poor cabin in the background in Mayo, of the oath of allegiance, of the dark, sad pages of i * yesterday, when the Dublin Fusiliers '•i.A .Juki: Tntiiskillinga fumed and raged because they were forbidden to throw -- ' themselves upon the Boer trenches, of . But this is a time to be "up

and idoing," and there is a ghastly woand requiring attention on the Otber side of the Oonnaught Banger. One of the worst casualties is a ,young fellow of 19, shot in a peculiar i my through the month, the bullet cotaungout at the back of the neck. There has been excessive hemorrhage, . V .»nd he lies as white, naywhiter, than \1 sheet an the rough bed. He is considered an interesting case, and a London surgeon' comes in to sugcertain treatment, for there is that with careful nursing he may through. But so far as the war concerned he has fought his first and fight, for never again will he be I pronounced " fit" for the front. There is a curly head to be trephined in of "the treacherous bullet, and several legs require the aid of splints; 'but the majority of the wounds are in the fleshy parts of the limbs. It is quite easy now to understand the expression, " a storm of led." The injuries from shell and pieces present an uglier appeavThey are ragged and jagged, longer to heal, and there are from she'ls so dreadful that is never under the necesof being - brought into the hosbut is buried where he falls, for "bjown tb atoms " is not figurative language when a shell and a man come into close contact. But, looking -round, it is comforting to know that the greater number of the injured men will do well. The little wounds will look after themselves, and the big ones do credit to a temporary ward, where dressing trays are limited, and a discarded packing-case does duty for t • a surgical cupboard.

Xbe pile of gauze, of wool, and bandisges is. growing less, and outside the door rises a pile of mutilated khaki uniforms. A twisted canteen and a pierced belt tells the story of narrow f escapes from sudden death. The intense heat of an African summer's day bad now yielded to a gentle evening breeze. Some of the men, refreshed, soothed, have fallen asleep. Upon the faces of those awake, who are not in any great pain, rests an expression of disappointment, of discontent, for the cense of bitter defeat is still fresh. The atoiy of one is the story of fifty. . »An advance in the early dawn to the banks of the Tugela, to within 800 yards of the Boar trenches, a murderous fire from the hidden enemy, a ' futile attempt to return the fire with like results, and then either the decimation af the regiments or retreat. " There was not as much as a wee bush for cover," says a soldier with his arm in a sling. "The Boers could Bee us quite plain, while we never got isight of them, so we had no sbow." And that is the common version of the Battle of the Tugela. The Boer ia no longer " uncivilised." ".He is slim ;" "he is drilled by foreign officers;" "he makes good use of the

country's natural defences;" "he is clerer in some ways;" and "he can shoot." These are some of the reasons given (or his continued presence in South Africa, when he should have allowed himself to be wiped out long ■' ■ f° r each Tommy Atkins who has ; been to " the front" now recognises the troth that the Boer forces want " a lot of beating." But Tommy has little heart for talk to-night, and seeks consolation, if able, in his pipe. Was ,there no incident to lighten the' gloom " of yesterday, when a white man, in whose enrs were ringing the cries of v offers of assistance from noitli, south, east, and west of the Empire, and a white man fighting with his back to the wall, took deadly aim at each other jn the grey dawn ? Yes, there was; ' only the world cannot pause to listen to such simple Stories, for its ears are deaf { to all sounds but the sound of fife and l drum, and the noise of trampling feet. " It was. terribly hot lying out on the [ "field, and I was one of the first to fall, for I was shot early," says a soldier wounded in the thigh. " I had my water-bag taken by a Boer, and I suffered dreadfully from thirst; but another Boer came along afterwards, and he gave me a dnnk of with big simrq of ft flask of brandy in it,

He seemed a very decent sort of chap." Picture this' scene, between friend and foe, whilst the slain of both sides lay sleeping their last sleep not many yards away. * * * • The day draws to a close. The last drink is given, the last dressing applied, and the orderlies come on duty for the night. Weaiy and footsore I stumble down the winding path, whose landmarks are whitewashed stone, instead of lamps, to the quarters, and supper. As a sad memento of the war I carry with me a Mauser bullet and a piece of shell, for as the giver says, with tears in his eyes, " My poor wife will never want to look at the bullet that hurt me." And being a woman I feel that I want to cry, for it does not fall to my lot to see the " glory of war," it is mine only to look upon the maimed limbs, the ghastly wounds, the suffering, the sad deaths, after results of anengagement, be it a victory or a defeat. And being a woman, I feel that I want to cry, too, for the Dutch women on the lonely farm on the veldt, whose grey-haired husband and youngest son, scarce strong enough to fire the rifle, died together in the trenches yesterday morning. For Rachel is weeping for her children on " both sides of the sea."