The boys in their turn at sentry duty had seen nothing suspicious. Not an unusual sound or sight had come within their range, though they had watched and listened with the intensity of those who knew that their lives might pay the forfeit of the least carelessness.
Nature too seemed to have relapsed into quiet. The mountain still smoked and there were occasional rumblings, while at times the earth trembled. But the giant of the volcano, if not sleeping soundly was at least dozing, and the boys took heart of hope from this circumstance. Human enemies they might fight, but before the unleashed forces of nature they were helpless.
Bimbo had prepared a good meal, and the boys after their hard work fell to with zest.
“Lay into it, boys,” said Benton approvingly. “Hungry men can’t fight well. It was Napoleon you know who said that an army was like a snake—it moved along on its stomach.”
They needed no urging, and Bimbo, despite his apprehension, grinned with satisfaction at the tribute paid to his cooking.
The long afternoon dragged on, the hours seeming all the longer because they had nothing to do but wait. And waiting was vastly more trying than working, for they had nothing to distract their minds from the ordeal that was coming.
They welcomed the shadows when they began to creep along the western sky. Twilight deepened into darkness. There was no moon, and the only light there was came from the stars.
Still the attack was delayed. An hour passed on and then another. Had they been mistaken then in believing that the struggle would come that night?
“Not at all,” affirmed Benton, when Dick had expressed a doubt. “They’re simply waiting until they think we’re fast asleep and they can bag us without having to do much fighting. They’re mighty careful of their precious skins.”
It lacked about half an hour of midnight when Phil, who had been on sentry duty, came slipping into the cave as silently as a panther.