Towards twelve o'clock it was our decision that licence-hunting
was over, for the day any how, since no digger recollected a search for licence
taking place on a Saturday afternoon. Our talk was of the coming meeting
of the reform league at two o'clock on Sunday, at the Adelphi, as announced
at the monster meeting on Wednesday.
The impression was almost general, that 'Charley' would soon dismiss
the hated brood of our commissioners, and things would then be 'all right.'
'Off to get a bite,' was the pass-word.
I assert as a matter of fact, and a living eye-witness, that between
one and two o'clock on Saturday, December 2nd, 1854, the Eureka stockade
was comparatively deserted. Those who remained (some one hundred) were such,
as either had a long distance to go to reach their tents, and the day
was very hot, or such as had no tent or friend on Ballaarat. I took notice
of this very circumstance from my tent, the second from the stockade,
on the hill, west, whilst frying a bit of steak on the fire of my tent chimney,
facing said stockade: Manning was peeling an onion. I transcribe the above
from the identical note I had taken down on my diary, at the identical hour
aforesaid, and can afford to challenge contradiction.
Chapter XLVIX.
Taedet Animam Meam Vitae Meae.
