“We must wait for daylight,” he said at last. “It is impossible to make any plans till then.”
But all the same the colonel arranged his little force so that it might tell to the best advantage; he and Perry securing themselves behind a block of stone to guard from an attack within, while Cyril had to join John Manning in guarding the entrance from an attack from outside, where they had the satisfaction soon after of seeing one of the mountain peaks appear, pale and ghastly looking, over the other side of the gorge, while all below was intensely black.
Once they heard a peculiar cry which might have come from Indians or some wild creature, quadruped or night-bird; but otherwise all was still in the gorge, as they strained their eyes in their endeavours to pierce the darkness in search of danger.
At last weariness began to tell upon Cyril, and his head nodded gently, then went down so suddenly that he started up, angry, and in dread lest Manning should have been aware of his lapse. For it was horrible at a time like that, when perhaps the lives of all depended upon his watchfulness.
“It was too dark, and he did not notice it,” thought Cyril, with a glow of satisfaction pervading his breast.
“Yes, it’s hard work, as I well know, sir,” said Manning quietly. “When I was a soldier first, I used to think it killing work to keep on sentry when one would have given anything to have a good sleep.”
“You noticed it, then,” said Cyril.
“Noticed it, my lad? why, of course. Seeing how dark it is, you might have had a doze and me not known anything but there you were, very quiet; but when you says to me, as plain as a young man can speak, ‘I’m tired out, and my eyes won’t keep open any longer,’ why, of course, I know you’re off.”
“But did I say that?”
“Not exactly, sir, but you said ‘gug,’ and I heered your teeth chop together when your chin went down upon your chest.”