“We shall stick to the original arrangement, and won’t stir before six,” we returned.
“We shall see about that!” was the rejoinder; and off he went.
Evidently we should have a tussle, but we were unanimous in our resolve not to give in to any such arbitrary proceeding.
Next morning the watch awakened us while it was still dark, and said the officer had given orders that we must be moving. We paid no attention to this. The ordinary convicts had been already called out, and were in the yard ready for the start, when at four o’clock the sergeant came and repeated the order. Some of us then dressed, but the others remained lying on the plank beds. Meanwhile the convicts began to grumble at being kept freezing in the cold; they cursed and threatened, and made a great to-do outside our windows. The officer himself now appeared, accompanied by one of the soldiers, and again repeated his order to start. We did not stir, and he called to his people—
“Drive them out with the butt-ends of your rifles!”
This would now most certainly have become a serious affair if the soldiers had obeyed at once, for we were prepared to defend ourselves. Fortunately they hesitated a moment, and that saved us.
“What are you doing?” cried some of us. “Do you want to have bloodshed? That would not be pleasant for you. You have broken your promise, and in no case are we obliged to begin the march so early; the instructions only say that a party must reach its destination before sunset.”
At this moment the sergeant came up in haste.
“Captain,” said he, “the convicts are in rebellion; they want to break in here.”
“Let us get at them!” we heard them shouting outside; “we’ll soon make them show their legs!”