Then the sentries began to talk together earnestly, and it seemed as if the man on duty in front of the wagon had joined those at the back, with the result that the conversation was becoming excited.
“They’re on the lookout after the advance,” whispered Denham. “It seems to be very dark outside. I believe it will not be long before we hear the attack begin.”
“No; they’ll wait till our men are asleep.”
“Perhaps,” said Denham; “but it must be getting late. Our fellows may be asleep now.”
“Yes,” I replied, with a sigh; and then irritably, “Why did you do that? You can whisper.”
“What do you mean?” he asked after a pause.
“Hitting me on the hands like that. You hurt me dreadfully.”
“I didn’t—” he began; but I stopped him with an excited “Hush!” and lay perfectly still, the perspiration starting out all over me.
“What is it?” whispered Denham, after waiting for some time. “What’s that gnawing and tearing sound?”
“Something under the wagon,” I replied very softly.