“Yes, it was startling,” I said, as I listened to the noise he made rolling himself in his blanket, and making the fir-boughs crackle as he turned about. “I was horribly scared at first, but I don’t think I mind now.”
“I do,” said Esau, with a groan, “and I never pretended to be as brave as you. It’s of no use, I can’t go to sleep.”
“Why, you haven’t tried yet,” I said, as I began to feel satisfied that his injuries were all fancy.
“No use to try,” he said, gloomily. “Fellow can’t go to sleep expecting every moment to be seized by some savage thing and torn to bits.”
“Nonsense!” I said. “Don’t make so much fuss.”
“That’s right; jump on me. You don’t behave half so well to me as I do to you, Mayne Gordon.”
I made no reply to this reproach, but lay gazing out into the gloom, where after a few minutes I heard a faint scratch, saw a line of light, and then the blaze of a match sheltered in Gunson’s hands, and a flash made as he lit his pipe and threw the match away, after which at regular intervals I saw the dull glow of the tobacco in the bowl as our sentry kept patient watch over us.
“Esau,” I said at last, “do you feel any pain?”
There was no reply.
“Esau, can you feel anything now?” I said.