deal barrack table out of store and put this on one side of the pole bar; on the other side was our mess-box, the top of which served for a sideboard. Our swords, belts, and water-bottles we hung on pole straps, and the floor we carpeted with the sacks in which the tent was packed on the march. We had each brought a camp-stool, so these completed our furniture and added materially to our comfort.
About noon some mules arrived, bringing our rations of bouilli beef and biscuit—also some ten-gallon tins of water. This was all very quickly served out and swallowed too. The bouilli beef is the ordinary tinned stuff, and always went by the name of "iron rations," to distinguish it from fresh-meat rations, which we got sometimes twice a week. The biscuit is very nasty, and quite uneatable unless stewed in some way, as it is as hard as steel. We always used to stew our beef and biscuit up together, putting in any fresh vegetables we could get—such as potatoes and onions, and occasionally some pumpkin. This concoction we called "soup;" and precious nasty soup it was too, even when swamped in Worcester sauce, or eaten with chutney or pickles, of which we had brought a plentiful supply. On days when we had no fresh vegetables
