One fact was evident: the Apaches had been as quick to detect the presence of the troopers as the latter were to discover them. None of the sentinels had observed any of the hostiles prowling in the neighborhood, but there could be no doubt that one or more of them had crept nigh enough to learn the truth.
“They are a half mile or so away,” remarked Lieutenant Decker to the leading scouts, whom he was always glad to consult; “and what is best to do?”
“If you will allow me,” remarked Freeman, “we can do nothing but wait for daylight, for the reason that it is impossible now to surprise them.”
“That is sensible,” commented Peyser, “they will be looking for us, and, if we make an attack in the moonlight, they will have the advantage.”
The lieutenant examined his watch. It was considerably past midnight. He was ready to lead a charge against the raiders, but it would have been unwise in view of what was already known. He assented to wait until sunrise.
“But it is well to make a change of base,” he said; “the Apaches, knowing we are here, will try to gain a shot at us.”
Inasmuch as there was little choice of location, the troopers took the singular course of riding out on the plain to the spot where the body of Potter, the scout, lay stretched in the sand. They could not abandon it, the intention being to take it back to the fort and give it Christian burial.
Men engaged upon such arduous work as the troopers snatch sleep and rest as the opportunity offers. The night was cool enough to make their blankets comfortable, and they were spread on the sand, while the hardy owners stretched out upon them, sinking almost immediately into deep, restful slumber. All the horses had been ridden hard and the rest was grateful to them, even though they suffered for food. Thus the scene was a curious one. With the exception of three sentinels, placed at some distance from camp, the entire company were unconscious.
But it need not be said that they slept on their arms, ready to leap to their feet and fight to the death at the first alarm. They had done it many a time before and always held themselves ready to do it again.
The sentinel to the north and the one to the south saw nothing to cause the slightest misgiving. They were extremely vigilant, for each realized that his own life, as well as the lives of his comrades might be sacrificed by a moment’s forgetfulness. If an Apache was permitted to steal nigh enough to launch his deadly arrow, he would thus open the way for a swift and deadly charge by his comrades.