They had had a pretty lively day of it considering, and it was little wonder Hugh felt more or less tired.
The noisy flood might continue to boom and gurgle as it rushed along near by, but that would not keep the patrol leader from slumber. Many times in the past he had experienced worse conditions and refused to be kept awake.
The last thing he remembered noticing was the crackling fire sending its red tongues upward as it seized upon the fresh fuel.
Hugh awoke with a start, and no wonder. Someone was calling aloud, and the burden of his cries were of a nature to cause alarm:
“Hugh! oh! Hugh, wake up! There’s something raiding our camp! It tried to carry me off!”
That was Billy whooping it up, as Hugh discovered when he rolled out of his blanket.
Monkey Stallings was already on his feet, being a wonderfully agile chap. He had looked around in his quick fashion, and not discovering any terrible tiger or other beast of prey in sight, naturally turned on the disturber of his peace.
“You’ve gone and got the nightmare, that’s what’s the matter, Billy Worth!” he told the other. “It’s a nice state of affairs when a fellow can’t get his sleep out. I knew you’d pay for eating so much supper. You just dreamed it all. I’d like to see what’d try to carry you off!”
Billy, however, was firmly convinced that it had not been a dream but a positive reality.
“Guess I ought to know,” he declared; “didn’t I feel it lifting me up, and growling like everything in the bargain? First I was scared so I seemed to be turned into ice. Then I let out that first whoop.”