"Of course," said I, assuming a confidence I could not feel. It was quite dark now, and a rising breeze came with an eerie note across the plains.
"Well, that's decent," said Jake, "but I couldn't let you take no such chances."
"Chances nothing!" Jack exploded. "We're in the same boat, and we're going to row together. Divide the night up, and Frank and I will take shift about."
"Well, if you insist," said Jake, reluctantly. "I'll hold it down till midnight, which is the most dang'rous time; then you can take it till three o'clock, an' Frank till six. I'll call you at midnight."
He was as good as his word. I heard them whispering in the gloom, while the stars blinked at me from a depthless heaven overhead.
"I thought I heard a noise once, down by the horses, but it must ha' been a coyote or a badger," Jake was saying. "It's jet black now, and if they haven't seen us they won't 'till daylight. I think you'll be safe enough. If you get up against it don't lose your head. Take your time; aim safe—not too high—an' let 'im have it."
Jack climbed out bravely, but I thought I felt his frame tremble as he went. I was none too happy myself. I lay awake, I don't know how long, counting the stars. Jake had made a bed of the tent on the prairie and was snoring with provoking regularity. It seemed to me that snore of his must be heard for miles through the silent night.
Suddenly Jack came rushing in upon us, falling over Jake and tumbling himself, headlong, on the ground. The rifle flew from his hands, and he was hunting about for it, frantically, in the darkness.
"It won't go off!" he shouted, in a hoarse whisper. "The damned thing won't go off!"
"Did you see him?" whispered Jake, while I, wide awake, jumped from the wagon.