"Dangerous!" ejaculated Peabody nervously.
"Precisely. If a lurking Indian should surprise you, you might wake up to find yourself scalped."
"Good gracious!" exclaimed the Bostonian, his teeth chattering, for he was not of the stuff of which heroes are made. "Do you—think there is any danger of that?"
"Considerable, if you neglect your duty."
"But perhaps I can't help falling asleep."
"Mr. Peabody," said Fletcher sternly, "you must keep awake. Not only your own safety, but that of the whole camp, may depend upon your vigilance. If you choose to risk your own life, I don't complain of that, but you shall not imperil ours. I therefore give you notice, that if you fall asleep on guard you will be drummed out of camp, and left to shift for yourself."
"But I couldn't find my way on the prairie," said Peabody, very much alarmed.
"You had better think of that when you are tempted to close your eyes, Mr. Peabody," replied Fletcher.
Lawrence Peabody walked off, feeling very much disconcerted. Fervently he wished himself back in Boston, where there are no Indians, and a man might sleep from one week's end to another without any danger of losing his scalp.
"What's the matter, Mr. Peabody?" asked Tom, observing his melancholy appearance.