Part 5 (1/2)

”I don't believe there's any likelihood of finding it. I suspect that Hank is having some sport at our expense. If there was any danger he would stay awake himself, instead of trusting two tenderfeet like us.”

”It may be, but we are in a wild country, where danger is likely to come at any time, and we may have our hands full. It seems to me that it would have been better to let the fire go out, and not attract attention.”

”He's running this affair; he wouldn't have had so much wood gathered if he didn't mean to keep the blaze going.”

With this Fred rose to his feet and flung an armful of wood on the flames, which brightened up until their reflection was thrown against the branches overhead and well out toward the edge of the grove. A faint whinny proved that the horses had been disturbed by the increase in the illumination.

Before lying down, Fred looked at his chum.

”I wonder, Jack, whether there's any risk of your falling asleep?”

”There would be if I remained seated on the ground, but I shall not do that.”

”It will be dangerous to walk back and forth, where the fire shows you plainly.”

”My plan is to move out in the grove, where the firelight will not strike me, and stand close to the trunk of one of the trees. I have heard of folks sleeping on their feet, but there's no fear of my doing it. Since I am to call you in less than two hours, Fred, you would better get sleep while you can.”

The younger lad bade his friend good-night and imitated the action of Hank Hazletine, wrapping his blanket around himself and lying down near the fire. He was not quite so prompt in sinking into slumber, but it was not long before Jack Dudley was the only one of the little party in command of his senses.

Jack, like his companions, felt the need of sleep, but the fact that he had but a brief while to remain awake, and the consciousness that the safety of others, as well as his own, rested upon himself, made him very alert. He believed he could sit or recline on the ground and retain his wits, but, fortunately, he had too much prudence to run that risk. Sleep is so insidious a foe that we can never recall the moment when it overmasters us, nor can we fight it off when in a p.r.o.ne or easy posture.

He adhered to the plan he had formed. Winchester in hand, he moved away from the fire until, by interposing the large trunk of a tree between himself and the light, he was invisible from that direction. He stood erect, taking care not to lean against the trunk for partial support, and concentrated his faculties into those of listening and looking.

The stillness was profound. From the distant mountains to the westward came a low, soft, almost inaudible murmur, such as one hears when many miles from the calm ocean, and which has been called the voice of silence itself. In the stillness he heard the faint crackle of one of the embers as it fell apart, and, though the night wind scarcely stirred the leaves over his head, he caught the rustle. The fact that there was nothing from the direction of the ponies showed they had ceased to crop the gra.s.s and were lying down. The safety of the camp was in his hands.

If he forgot his duty, it might be fatal to all.

The sense of this responsibility and the newness of his position made Jack Dudley more wakeful than he could have been under any other circ.u.mstances. To these causes, also, was due a suspicious nervousness which made him see danger where it did not exist. The rustling of a falling leaf caused him to start and glance furtively to one side, and at a soft stir of the leaves under a breath of wind, or a slight movement of the sleeping ponies, he started and grasped his rifle with closer grip.

All this was natural; but there came a moment, not far from midnight, when there remained no doubt that some person or animal was moving stealthily through the grove, near where he was standing. It will be remembered that his position was such that the trunk of the large oak acted as an impenetrable screen between him and the camp-fire, which was burning so vigorously that its rays penetrated to a greater or less degree beyond him. Thus he could see anything moving within the circle of illumination, while he was as invisible to the keenest-eyed warrior as if the night was without a ray of light.

The first warning was through the sense of hearing. He had been deceived so many times that he suspected his fancy was playing with him again, but the faint _tip, tip_ continued until such explanation was amiss.

”It is an Indian or a wild beast,” was his belief.

The next minute he knew that, whatever it was, its position was between him and the outer edge of the grove. Since the ponies were on the opposite side of the fire, Jack was nearer the intruder than either they or his friends, sleeping by the camp-fire. Recalling that his place was the most favorable possible, he remained as motionless as the tree-trunk behind him, and to which he stood close enough to touch by moving his foot a few inches backward.

The situation being thus, it followed that if the man or beast continued its advance it must come into sight, while Jack himself was invisible.

He therefore held his Winchester ready for instant use and waited.

He was standing in this expectant att.i.tude when a remarkable thing took place. The fire, having remained unreplenished for some time, had subsided to a considerable extent, when one of the embers fell apart and caused such a displacement of the burning wood that the light flared up and penetrated with its former vigor beyond the tree which sheltered the sentinel.

Jack was as immovable as a statue, his weapon grasped in both hands, when this sudden brightening occurred. He was peering out among the dark trees, in the effort to identify the danger, when he saw the unmistakable figure of an Indian, hardly twenty feet away.

The buck had entered the grove with the silence of a shadow, and was making his way to the camp-fire, when betrayed in this singular manner to the watcher. In the reflection of the firelight, his naturally hideous countenance was repulsive to the last degree. The features were irregular, with prominent cheek-bones, a huge nose, and a retreating chin. Ugly as nature had made him, he had intensified it himself by daubing black, red and white paint in splashes over the front of his countenance. His coa.r.s.e, black hair dangled loosely about his shoulders, and a single stained eagle's feather protruded from the crown. It was gathered back of the neck by a thong of some sort, so as to prevent the hair getting in his eyes when there was such imminent need for their use.

The chest was bare to the waist, and was also fantastically painted. In the girdle which encircled his waist was thrust a knife, whose handle protruded, while the leggings and moccasins were gayly ornamented and fringed. He held a formidable rifle in his right hand, in a trailing position, and was leaning well forward, with his body bent, as he drew near the camp with that stoical patience which the American race shows in the most trying crises. If necessary, he would continue this cautious advance for hours without showing haste, for it is often that his people circ.u.mvent and overthrow an enemy by their incomparable caution and care.

One peculiar feature of the unexpected flaring-up of the light was that its strongest force impinged directly upon the painted face of the Indian, which was seen as plainly by Jack Dudley as if the sun were s.h.i.+ning. The youth felt that he could not forget that countenance if he saw it a hundred years afterward.