At West Point such things were once possible, but the introduction of long rows of gas lamps put an end to it by illuminating the camp so that the pranks could not be performed without the greatest danger of detection.
At Fardale the gas lamps were missing, and a dark night during the first weeks of each yearly encampment was certain to be a wild night.
It happened that Fred Davis had been assigned to guard duty on this particular night, and, for a long time, none of the disturbances took place on his post.
At length, however, when things had been quiet for an ominous length of time, Fred saw three figures coming swiftly toward him through the darkness.
"Halt!" he commanded, promptly. "Who comes there?"
"The corporal of the guard," was the reply, given in a muffled tone of voice.
"Advance, corporal of the guard, and give the countersign."
Then followed a suspicious hesitation. Fred fancied he heard a faint sound in his rear, but, before he could make a move, a blanket was thrown over his head, and he was hurled to the ground.
He struggled with surprising strength, but he was helpless in the hands of his assailants. His musket had been torn from his hands, and he seemed to feel something slitting and tearing his clothing. Once he was struck or kicked with great violence.
After a few moments of this treatment, Davis managed to get his head clear of the enfolding blanket and shout for help. His cries produced another alarm in camp, and his assailants quickly took to flight, leaving him in a badly battered condition.