Towards midnight, at the moment when everyone in the camp was plunged in sleep, a man rose softly, and creeping along in the shade, with the quickness of a reptile, but with extreme precaution, he glided out of the barricades and intrenchments.
He then went down upon the ground, and by degrees, in a manner almost insensibly, directed his course, upon his hands and knees, through the high grass towards a forest which covered the first ascent of the hill, and extended some way into the prairie. When he had gone a certain distance, and was safe from discovery, he rose up.
A moonbeam, passing between two clouds, threw a light upon his countenance.
That man was the Babbler.
He looked round anxiously, listened attentively, and then with incredible perfection imitated the cry of the prairie dog.
Almost instantly the same cry was repeated, and a man rose up, within at most ten paces of the Babbler.
This man was the guide who, three days before, had escaped from the camp on the first appearance of the conflagration.