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71 LVI.

REMEMBER THIS SABBATH DAY (DECEMBER THIRD), TO KEEP IT HOLY.

Sunday morning. It was full dawn, not daylight. A discharge of musketry—then a round from the bugle—the command "forward"—and another discharge of musketry was sharply kept on the the red-coats (some 300 strong) advancing on the gully west of the stockade, for a couple of minutes.

The shots whizzed by my tent. I jumped out of the stretcher and rushed to my chimney facing the stockade. The forces within could not muster above 150 diggers.

The shepherds' holes inside the lower part of the stockade had been turned into rifle-pits, and were now occupied by Californians of the I. C. Rangers' Brigade, some twenty or thirty in all, who had kept watch at the "outposts" during the night.

Ross and his division northward, Thonen and his division southward, and both in front of the gully, under cover of the slabs, answered with such a smart fire, that the military who were now fully within range, did unmistakably appear to me to swerve from their ground: anyhow the command "forward" from Sergeant Harris was put a stop to. Here a lad was really courageous with his bugle. He took up boldly his stand to the left of the gully and in front: the red-coats "fell in" in their ranks to the right of this lad. The wounded on the ground behind must have numbered a dozen.

Another scene was going on east of the stockade. Vern floundered across this stockade eastward, and I lost sight of him. Curtain whilst making coolly for the holes, appeared to me to give directions to shoot at Vern; but a rush was instantly made in the same direction (Vern's) and a whole pack cut for Warrenheip.