"This experience has proved one thing," Bud remarked in the course of their continued discussion, "and that is that all our watches ought to be in two's."
"Yes, a single watcher gets pretty lonesome, and, besides, it's too easy for him to be taken by surprise. Now, there's a sample of what I say. Don't look yet; he'll know we see him. He's moved, farther to the east, and now he's creeping up behind the tent."
"We must make sure that he's alone, or else rouse the rest of the camp," said Bud excitedly. "Keep watch in every direction. I'll turn slowly and get a look at him, and then turn back and pretend not to see him."
This program was observed carefully for a minute or two. Meanwhile the spy crept closer and closer, crawling like a serpentine quadruped and making fairly good progress withal. At last, however, Bud decided that it was time for him to do something to put a stop to this proceeding.
Without giving his companion any warning as to his intention, he lifted the catapult eye-line high, pulled back the sling, in which all this time he had held a stone nearly half the size of a hen's egg, and let it fly.
Thud!
That the missile hit the mark hard was indicated, first, by the sound of the blow, itself, and, second, by the muffled cry of agony that followed. The next instant the victim, who seemed to be struggling to retain his "quadruped balance," rolled over with a moan of impotent agony.
CHAPTER XXVI
The Sling Shot Victim
"What's the matter, boys?"