“Oh, not necessarily,” came the reply, “but I like to feel that I’m prepared for whatever may happen. Old habits, you know, picked up on the range when I served as night wrangler to the saddle band of horses, and there was danger of a stampede, a thunderstorm, or visits from cattle rustlers. Do just as you think best about it, Amos.”
“What’s good enough for you ought to suit me,” was the reply Amos made.
They had little trouble in getting asleep. The day’s arduous tramp had tired Amos in particular, and though he started to think over the exciting events that had come their way since dawn, it was not long before they became a jumble in his mind, and then gave way to dreams of the dear ones left at home.
If they awoke at various times during the night it was only to turn over and go to sleep again. Young, buoyant natures can easily throw off mental burdens that might keep older persons long wakeful.
Hours passed.
It must have been getting well on toward morning when Amos felt some one tugging at him. Still half dreaming, he imagined one of his boy friends must be annoying him while camping out.
“Let up on that, Billy, and go to sleep again,” he muttered; but the shaking only increased, and now some one was calling in his ear:
“Wake up, Amos, wake up I tell you; we’ve got to get out of this!”
At that Amos threw off the sense of drowsiness, and somehow managed to understand where he was.
“What’s all that terrible racket, Jack?” he demanded, as his ears caught a confusion of direful sounds outside.