In the course of an hour, when there was no imperative necessity for a fire, it was allowed to slumber and finally die out. The wagons were placed in a rude circle, with the animals within, while the women and children, and such men as were relieved from duty, sought their quarters for the night, and soon silence rested upon all.
A double guard was set. Ten men were scattered around the outer edge of the globe at regular distances from each other, on the alert for the first indications of danger.
Beers and Hammond stood next to each other, and the former finally left his station and took his position beside the latter.
“What’s the use?” he muttered, by way of apology. “When it’s so dark that you can’t see any thing, where’s the good of straining your eyes? As we have got to depend on our sense of hearing, we’ll help each other.”
The air was so sharp and keen that they had great difficulty in keeping themselves comfortable. They dare not stamp their feet or swing their arms, and such movements as they made, were made with a stealth and caution that nearly robbed them of all their virtue.
At the end of an hour the sky gave some signs of clearing. It was somewhat lighter overhead, but still the earth below was little benefited thereby. There was scarcely any variations in the wind, although several fancied that it had somewhat decreased.
Another hour passed drearily away, and then Beers suddenly laid his hand on the arm of Hammond.
“What is it?”
“Hark!”