“There is no danger, I suppose?” Leona said.
“Oh, no!” replied Dave, “we will only go a little way beyond our picket-line, and then we can return.”
Abe, as captain of the train, had thrown out regular pickets, as though on the prairie.
Leona got a cloak of dark cloth from the wagon, wrapped it around her, took the offered arm of Dave, and the two walked off in the path leading up the river.
“Now, if they don’t discover whether they love each other or not, before they come back, then they ought to be ashamed of themselves!” cried Eunice to herself, as she looked after their retreating figures.
Leona and Dave walked on arm in arm; they passed the picket-guard by the river, and got beyond the limits of the camp.
Dark clouds had begun to gather on the hitherto clear sky, and every now and then one would sail across the moon, shading the earth in darkness for a few moments; then the moon would shine out clear again till another cloud followed.
No sounds were stirring on the still night-air save now and then the shrill cry of some little earth insect, burrowing beneath the feet of the lovers.
“Do you think there is danger of the Indians attacking us before we reach Montana?” asked Leona.