And having thrown myself
on my stretcher, with every thing quiet round about, I soon fell asleep.
On the afternoon of Sunday, the following notice was posted up:-
V. R.
NOTICE.
No light will be allowed to be kept burning in any
tent within musket-shot of the line of sentries after
8 o'clock p.m. No discharge of fire-arms in the
neighbourhood of the Camp will be permitted for any
purpose whatever.
The sentries have orders to fire upon any person
offending against these rules.
(By order),
T. BAILEY RICHARDS,
Lieut. 40th Regt., Garrison Adjutant.
Chapter LVI.
Remember This Sabbath Day (December Third), To Keep It Holy.
I awoke. Sunday morning. It was full dawn, not daylight. A discharge
of musketry - then a round from the bugle - the command 'forward' - and another
discharge of musketry was sharply kept on by the red-coats (some 300 strong)
advancing on the gully west of the stockade, for a couple of minutes.
The shots whizzed by my tent. I jumped out of the stretcher and rushed
to my chimney facing the stockade. The forces within could not muster
above 150 diggers.
The shepherds' holes inside the lower part of the stockade had been turned
into rifle-pits, and were now occupied by Californians of the
I.C. Rangers' Brigade, some twenty or thirty in all, who had kept watch
at the 'out-posts' during the night.
Ross and his division northward, Thonen and his division southward,
and both in front of the gully, under cover of the slabs, answered
with such a smart fire, that the military who were now fully within range,
did unmistakably appear to me to swerve from their ground: anyhow the command
"forward" from Sergeant Harris was put a stop to. Here a lad was really
courageous with his bugle. He took up boldly his stand to the left
of the gully and in front: the red-coats 'fell in' in their ranks to the right
of this lad. The wounded on the ground behind must have numbered a dozen.
Another scene was going on east of the stockade. Vern floundered across
the stockade eastward, and I lost sight of him. Curtain whilst making coolly
for the holes, appeared to me to give directions to shoot at Vern;
but a rush was instantly made in the same direction (Vern's) and a whole pack
cut for Warrenheip.
There was, however, a brave American officer, who had the command
of the rifle-pit men; he fought like a tiger; was shot in his thigh
at the very onset, and yet, though hopping all the while, stuck to Captain Ross
like a man.
