But there was no relaxation of our watchfulness, for we could not tell but that in their silent furtive way the enemy were preparing for a fresh assault, or perhaps merely resting and gathering together to come on in one spot all at once.
“More likely to make a feint somewhere,” I heard the General say to my father. “If they do it will be to make a big attack somewhere else, and that is where the supports must be ready to flock down.”
“You will see to that, sir?” said my father.
“Yes. You and Preston cannot do better service,” continued the General, “so keep your places.”
“Pomp,” I whispered; “where are you?”
“Here, Mass’ George.”
“Let’s go all round, and you can tell me where the Indians are gathering now.”
“Pomp go outside,” he said, softly. “Climb over.”
“No, no; they would see and kill you.”
“No. Dey too ’tupid. I go ober. You gib leg lil hyste up.”