'You might join me in a little prayer that he won't,' said Mike. 'What sort o' chance 're we goin' to have if he drops in on us here with his mounted men?'
'Mighty poor, and you can bet the Colonel knows it. Unless he's afraid of precipitating a general rising, he'll charge down here and wipe this place out.'
'If there should be any fightin', gi' me a call, won't you?' said Harry, with a yawn.
The others laughed and took the hint. Slowly the fires faded, and the encampment sank into stillness and silence, save for the slow movements of the sentinels and the clang of the smith's hammer. The night had been warm, the early hours of Sunday morning were cold, but the men were all accustomed to camping in the open, and, huddling together, they slept soundly. The lights of Ballarat had flickered out; the whole field lay in darkness. The slow hours stole on, the sentinels were changed, and absolute quiet descended upon Eureka, for even the heroic blacksmith had stretched himself by his forge, and was sleeping, with the boy by his side.
'The swaddies are on us!'
At about three o'clock that one fierce cry shook the camp into action. The men sprang from the ground; there was an almost simultaneous rush into position—the pikemen nearest the pickets, the rifle men to the left, the revolver corps to the right. It was a false alarm, but it gave Jim more confidence in the men, who had shown much better order than he had expected, and their promptness and determination pleased him.
'They'll make a good fight of it when the swaddies do come,' he said cheerfully, as they settled down in their blankets.
'My oath!' replied Mike. 'But we were chumps to give up our revolvers.
What good can a man do pokin' round in the dark with a blanky spike?'
The men lay with their primitive weapons in their hands. There was a little growling and cursing and once more the encampment was given over to sleep.
Jim Done awoke as the grayness of dawn was creeping through the night—awoke with an idea that he was sleeping under the gum-trees. There was a vague belief in his head that he and his mates were on the wallaby, but where they were going to, he was too sleepy to decide. A slight drizzle was falling, but he curled himself in his blanket, and disposed himself to sleep again. Then, with the shock of a heavy blow, he heard a sharp voice challenging. A gunshot followed.