definitely, that his influence alone
held the rebel faction together. Towards evening Long Jim was
dispatched to find out how matters really stood. He brought back word
that the diggers had entrenched themselves on a piece of rising ground
near the Eureka lead, behind a flimsy barricade of logs, slabs, ropes
and overturned carts. The Camp, for its part, was screened by a
breastwork of firewood, trusses of hay and bags of corn; while the
mounted police stood or lay fully armed by their horses, which were
saddled ready for action at a moment's notice.

Neither Ned nor Purdy put in an appearance, and the night passed
without news of them. Just before dawn, however, Mahony was wakened by
a tapping at the window. Thrusting out his head he recognised young
Tommy Ocock, who had been sent by his father to tell "doctor" that the
soldiers were astir. Lights could be seen moving about the Camp, a
horse had neighed--father thought spies might have given them the hint
that at least half the diggers from the Stockade had come down to Main
Street last night, and got drunk, and never gone back. With a concerned
glance at Polly Mahony struggled into his clothes. He must make another
effort to reach the boys--especially Ned, for Polly's sake. When Ned
had first announced his intention of siding with the insurgents, he had
merely shrugged his shoulders, believing that the young vapourer would
soon have had enough of it. Now he felt responsible to his wife for
Ned's safety: Ned, whose chief reason for turning rebel, he suspected,
was that a facetious trooper had once dubbed him "Eytalian
organ-grinder," and asked him where he kept his monkey.

But Mahony's designs of a friendly interference came too late. The
troops had got away, creeping stealthily through the morning dusk; and
he was still panting up Specimen Hill when he heard the crack of a
rifle. Confused shouts and cries followed. Then a bugle blared, and the
next instant the rattle and bang of musketry split the air.

Together with a knot of others, who like himself had run forth half
dressed, Mahony stopped and waited, in extreme anxiety; and, while he
stood, the stars went out, one by one, as though a finger-tip touched
them. The diggers' response to the volley of the attacking party was
easily distinguished: it was a dropping fire, and sounded like a thin
hail-shower after a peal of thunder. Within half an hour all was over:
the barricade had fallen, to cheers and laughter from