"Lieutenant Stewart," he said to me, "I place you in charge of the sentries for the night. Will you make the rounds and see that all is well? I know the men are weary, but I need hardly tell you that our safety will depend upon their vigilance. Guard especially against a surprise from the direction of the river."
I saluted, and started away to make the round. The sun had long since sunk behind the trees in a cloud of blood-red vapor, which seemed to me significant of the day. All about us through the forest arose the chorus of night sounds, and afar off through the trees I could catch the glinting of the river. What was happening beyond it, I dared not think. And then I came to a sudden stop, for I had reached the spot where the first sentry had been posted, but there was none in sight.
I thought for a moment that in the darkness I must have missed the place, but as I looked about me more attentively, I saw that could not be. I walked up and down, but could find no trace of him. Could it be that the Indians had stolen upon him and killed him with a blow of knife or tomahawk before he could cry out? Yet if that had happened, where was the body?
I hurried on toward the spot where the next sentry had been posted, and as I neared it, strained my eyes through the gloom, but could see no trace of him. I told myself that I was yet too far away, and hurried forward, but in a moment I had reached the place. There was no sentry there. With the perspiration starting from my forehead, I peered among the trees and asked myself what mysterious and terrible disaster threatened us. The third sentry was missing like the others—the fourth had disappeared—I made the whole round of the camp. Not a single sentry remained. And then, of a sudden, the meaning of their absence burst upon me.
I hurried back to the camp, passing the spot where we had quartered the men whom we had rallied, but who were not placed on sentry duty.
As I expected, not one was there.
"All is well, I trust, Lieutenant Stewart?" asked Colonel Burton, as I approached. Then something in my face must have startled him, for he asked me sharply what had happened.
"I fear we cannot remain here, sir," I said, as calmly as I could. "All of our men have deserted us. There is not a single sentry at his post;" and I told him what I had found.
He listened without a word till I had finished.
"You will get the tumbrel ready for the general, lieutenant," he said quietly. "I will report this sad news to him. It seems that our defeat is to become dishonor."