“Mine!” was the reply. “The scoundrels inveigled me into staying with them, and I had a narrow escape.”
“Hah! Just as they served me. I saw their light and came up, and they professed to be friends. I didn’t like the look of them, but one can’t pick one’s company out here, and a good fire was very tempting.”
“Hist!”
The warning was followed by the clicking of pistol locks, after which the pair listened patiently for some minutes.
“Nothing. Here, let’s get the two sledges one on either side of the hot ground. One will be a shelter, the other a breastwork to fire over if the scoundrels come back. Besides, the breastwork will keep in the heat. We are bound to protect ourselves.”
“All right,” was the reply, in an answering whisper, and the pair dragged the two sledges into position, and then, allowing for the dank odour of the quenched wood, found that they had provided themselves with a snugly warm shelter, adding to their comfort by means of blankets and a waterproof sheet, which they spread beneath them.
This took time, for every now and then they paused to listen or make a reconnaissance in search of danger; but at last all was done, and the question was who should keep the first watch.
“I’ll do that,” said the last comer. “I couldn’t lie down to sleep if I tried; my throat gives me so much pain. It feels swollen right up. I’ll take the first watch—listen, one ought to say. Why, I can’t even see my hand.”
“It is terribly dark here in this gulch,” was the whispered reply. “The mountains run up perpendicularly on either side. But I couldn’t sleep after all I’ve gone through to-night. My nerves are all on the jar. I’ll watch with you.”
“Listen.”