“We want the land we battled for
  To be a land worth while. 
We’re sick uv greed, an’ ‘ate, an’ strife,
An’ all the mess that’s made uv life.” . . . 
  ’E stopped a bit to smile. 
“I got these thoughts Out There becos
We learnt wot mateship reely was.”

. . . . . . . .

The hills be’ind the orchard trees
  Was showin’ misty blue. 
The ev’nin’ light was growin’ dim;
An’ down I sat ’longside uv ’im,
  An’ done some dreamin’ too. 
I dreams uv war; an’ wot is paid
By blokes that went an’ blokes that stayed.

I dreams uv honour an’ reward,
  An’ ’ow to pay a debt. 
For partin’ cash, an’ buyin’ farms,
An’ fittin’ chaps with legs an’ arms
  Ain’t all—­there’s somethin’ yet. 
There’s still a solid balance due;
An’ now it’s up to me an’ you.

There’s men I know ain’t yet woke up,
  Or reckernized that debt—­
Proud men ’oo wouldn’t take yeh down
Or owe their grocer ’arf-a-crown—­
  They ain’t considered, yet,
There’s somethin’ owin’—­to the dead,
An’ Diggers live for more than bread.

“We learnt wot mateship was,” ’e sez. 
  “Us Diggers found the good
That’s hid away somewhere in chaps,
An’ ain’t searched for enough, per’aps,
  Or prized, or understood. 
But all this game uv grab an’ greed
An’ silly ’ate—­Why, where’s the need?”

The hills be’ind the orchard trees
  Jist caught the settin’ sun. 
A bloke might easy think that there,
’Way back be’ind the range somewhere,
  Where streaks uv sunlight run,
There was a land, swep’ clear uv doubt,
Where men finds wot they dreams about.

. . . . . . . . .

“Beauty,” sez Digger, sudden-like,
 “An’ love, an’ kindliness;
The chance to live a clean, straight life,
A dinkum deal for kids an’ wife
  A man needs nothin’ less. . . . 
Maybe they’ll get it when I go
To push up daisies.  I dunno.”

“Dreamin’,” sez Digger Smith.  “Why not? 
  There’s visions on the hill.”. . . 
Then I gets up an’ steals away,
An’ leaves ‘im with the dyin’ day,
  Dreamin’ an’ doubtin’ still. . . . 
Cobber, it’s up to me an’ you
To see that ’arf ’is dream comes true.

The end

GLOSSARY

Alley, to throw in the.—­To surrender. 
Ar.—­An exclamation expressing joy, sorrow, surprise, etc.,
     according to the manner of utterance. 
Aussie.—­Australia; an Australian.

Bag of tricks.—­All one’s belongings. 
Barrack.—­To take sides. 
Beat the band.—­To amaze. 
Bint.—­Girl. 
Bird, to give the.—­To treat with derision. 
Blighty.—­London. 
Blind.—­Deception, “bluff.” 
Bloke.—­A male adult of the genus homo. 
Bluff.—­Cunning practice; make-believe; to deceive; to mislead. 
Bonzer,—­The best. 
Book.—­In whist, six tricks. 
Booked.—­Engaged. 
Buckley’s (Chance)—­A forlorn hope. 
Buck up.—­Cheer up. 
Bunk, to do a.—­To depart.