The gravity of his demeanour, as he joined his companions, led them to conjecture that he had seen some trace of their enemies, which impression was confirmed amongst them when he led Baptiste and Attō aside to hold with them a council of war.
Having briefly detailed what he had seen, he expressed his belief that the Crows had divided their force for the purpose of attacking the camp in the course of the ensuing night, and concluded by asking their opinion as to the most advisable means of defence. After a short deliberation, it was agreed that four men should watch at the opposite sides of the thicket, each of whom being well sheltered behind a log of wood already rolled to its edge, could detect the approach of an enemy from the prairie, and that each should be provided with two loaded rifles, so that in case of his being obliged to fire one to give the alarm, he might still have another ready for immediate use.
These preparations having been made, and the horses brought within the encampment, the little party sat down to their supper, and afterwards smoked their pipes as unconcernedly as if neither Crows nor danger were lurking in the neighbourhood. Night came on, and those whose turn it was to sleep, announced by their heavy breathing that the hour of rest was not unwelcome. Monsieur Perrot snored so loudly from beneath the pile of blankets in which he had enveloped himself, that he more than once received a slight admonition from the elbow of the half–awakened guide, who lay beside him. Reginald, however, was in a mood which would have no fellowship with sleep; his thoughts were of Prairie–bird, still in Mahéga’s power, of his Indian brother, now far on his solitary and dangerous journey, of the lurking foes whose attack he hourly expected, and of the familiar faces at Mooshanne, whom distance and absence now rendered doubly dear. The night was dark, for the young moon, after traversing her appointed section of the southern sky, had disappeared, and the twinkling stars threw but an uncertain light, rendered yet more doubtful by the leafy branches which waved gently to and fro under the light breath of the night breeze.
In order to give some employment to his unquiet spirit, Reginald resolved to visit the several stations where his sentries were posted, and, throwing his rifle over his shoulder, arose and commenced his rounds. Moving with a slow and noiseless step, he went to each of the posts in succession, and finding all the watchmen on the alert, whispered to each a word of approbation. The last station that he visited was occupied by Attō; and Reginald, sitting down behind the log, conversed with him for a short time, in a low tone of voice, each pausing at intervals, to listen and look out upon the valley. On a sudden, Attō, touching his arm, pointed to a spot near the summit of the neighbouring hill; and, following the direction indicated, Reginald could plainly see a small light, as of a dry stick, which burnt for a few seconds, and was then extinguished.
“Let Netis watch,” whispered the Indian; “Attō will return directly;” and with these words he disappeared in the thicket.
Not many minutes elapsed ere he came back, and, in the same subdued tone, said, “All is well now, the Upsaroka are coming, Attō saw the same light on the other hill; it is a sign for both parties to attack from opposite sides at once.”
“All is well, indeed,” thought Reginald, within himself. “This fellow must have a strange stomach for fighting, when he applies such a term to an expected conflict, where the odds are to be two or three hundred to ten.”
These were Reginald’s thoughts for a moment; but his words were: “Baptiste, Perrot, and I will remain at this post; you can spare us also one of your warriors; you will guard the opposite post with three others; there will remain one to move constantly round within the edge of the thicket, to summon us to any point where the Crows may threaten an attack. Is the plan good, what says my brother?”
“It is good,” replied the Indian, and they set about it forthwith in earnest and in silence.