"By the way," the agent said, as he turned to leave the store, "the miners must have employed our countrymen to chop wood for them last night, if I might judge from appearances."
"How so?"
"Why, haven't you heard the news?" he asked, in surprise.
"No; what has transpired?"
"Why, the miners are building fortifications on Gravel Pit Hill, and last night the sound of axes was heard from dark until light. A thousand trees were felled and trimmed, and cut into suitable lengths for a palisade, and even now men are at work digging holes in the sand to insert the ends of the timber. The miners mean mischief, and we shall have a hot fight before long."
"But why don't the commissioner interfere, and prevent the men from continuing the work?" I asked.
"That is something that I cannot explain, although I have endeavored to solve the mystery. The miners think that he is frightened, and therefore count on an easy victory."
The agent bade us a good morning, and walked off to attend to his duties.
"Can't you see through this seeming indifference?" asked Mr. Brown; "the commissioner has sent for artillery, and expects the arrival of the company in a day or two at farthest. The palisade will afford but trifling resistance to a twelve pound cannon ball. Besides, there is more glory for the officers if the miners are fortified. Be assured that the commissioner winks at the operations of the disaffected, simply because he can crush them more effectually if cooped up, than displayed upon the plain."
"But if the artillery were cut off and sent back to Melbourne with the loss of their guns, the miners would have the best of the bargain," I suggested.