“These here Injuns is livin’ on a reservation,” sez he, “an’ I don’t believe ’at they’d dare outrage us.”
I was indignant with the little cuss for not bein’ afeared of Injuns. My theory was, ’at nerves was a lot like hosses: keep a hoss shut up an’ he’ll get bad an’ kick an’ raise Cain; but take him out an’ ride his hide loose, an’ he’ll simmer down consid’able. I wanted to give Horace’s nerves such a complete stringin’ out that they wouldn’t worry him any more for a year; an’ here he was, not carin’ a hang for Injuns. “Beliefs is all right to the believers,” sez I, stiffenin’ up; “but facts is facts whether you believe in ’em or not. Every Injun outrage since the Civil War was planned on a reservation, an’ we can’t take no chances.”
While he was studyin’ over this with a pouty look on his face, Tank sez: “It’s time we fixed up an’ moved out into the dark”; so we put rolls o’ brush in the beds, an’ went on up the side o’ the rise where the’ was a level spot I knew of, Horace stumblin’ an’ grumblin’ every step o’ the way. We were about two hundred yards from the fire an’ it looked cozy an’ cheerful, dancin’ away beside the tarps. I was half a mind to join in with Horace, an’ go on back; but our plans were all laid, an’ besides, I had a little bet up with Spider Kelley, that I’d return Horace in such fine condition that he’d be willin’ to drink blood or milk a cow calf-fashion.
“You go to sleep first,” sez Tank to Horace; “I’ll watch till I get sleepy an’ then I’ll call Happy, he’ll watch two hours, an’ if it ain’t dawn by that time, he’ll call you. I may not get sleepy at all, but you know how nerves is. I stayed awake ninety-six hours once, an’ couldn’t get a speck sleepy. Then I decided to stay out the even hundred an’ see how far I could jump after stayin’ awake a hundred hours. I went to sleep in ten minutes an’ didn’t wake up for two days—so I’m liable to be took sleepy to-night.”
We had brought the slickers up, an’ Horace rolled up in one, under a low evergreen, and began to snore in half a minute. As soon as he had got to wrastlin’ with his breath in earnest, I went to the head o’ the trail an’ whistled for Spider Kelley. He an’ four others were there, an’ I told ’em it was all right to start in an hour, an’ then I came back to Horace chucklin’. Spider enjoyed anything like this, an’ he had fixed up the boys with feathers an’ fringe an’ smears o’ chalk an’ raspberry jam, till they looked as evil-minded as any Injuns I’d ever seen.
We set Horace’s watch ahead five hours. Tank curled up an’ went to sleep, an’ then I started to wake Horace up. It took so long; to get him to consciousness that I feared the hour would be up; but he finally got so he remembered what he was, an’ then I told him not to make any fuss if he saw any Injuns, but to just wake us up. I tried to get him to take one o’ my guns, but I didn’t wear triggers on ’em an’ he didn’t savvy snap-shootin’, so he took a club in his hand an’ started to parade.
He looked at his watch while I was stretchin’ out in his warm spot, an’ he looked at it again before I was through loosenin’ up my muscles. It beats the world how slow time crawls to a man on watch. I was sleepy myself, but I’d have bit out my tongue before I’d have give in. I lay half on my right side with my hat drawn down, watchin’ Horace. After about ten minutes, he pulled out his watch again an’ looked at it. He pulled out the snap to set it ahead, in order to fool us, but he was troubled with too much morality, so he snapped it shut an’ spoke to himself between his set teeth for several moments.
I reckon he must have kept on his feet for twenty minutes, an’ then he settled down with his face to the fire, which I had fed up on my way back from seein’ Spider, an’ said loud enough for me to hear: “This is all damn foolishness.”
He said it so slow an’ solemn an’ earnest, that I purt nigh choked; but I kept still, he kept still, an’ the fire kept dancin’ before him. His breathin’ grew deep an’ steady, his nerves was all coiled up comfortable; and tired muscles don’t make a feller wakeful. Purty soon Horace began to gargle his palate, an’ then I was ready for Spider Kelley.
The plan was for him to come up close so as to entertain Horace while his braves sneaked on to the dummies in the tarps; but the’ was no occasion for sneakin’. Horace had turned over the camp to fate, an’ he wasn’t worryin’ his head about what was goin’ to happen to it.