When all the dishes were cleared away, they lolled about on blankets or marched to and fro, the flickering firelight casting fantastic lights and shadows over figures and surroundings. An incessant chant and hum of insects accompanied the never ending rustlings and sighings of leaves and grasses, while occasionally louder sounds told them that some wild creature was scurrying through the underbrush.
When the moon rose above the eastern hills, paling by its majesty the stars and constellations, Dave Brandon rose to his feet.
“Boys,” he announced, “I’m going to take a stroll.”
“Goodness, what a surprise,” said Don. “Why, you’re generally the first to turn in.”
“I know, but the effects to-night are symphonies in color, too beautiful to miss. Who’s coming along?”
Both lads promptly accepted his invitation.
“I’ll wait up for you,” chuckled Carl Alvin. “I’m standing the first watch.”
The three presently skirted the base of a hill, soon coming out on a broad flat stretch bordering the famous river.
Five minutes later it seemed as though they were absolutely alone in a vast solitude, for neither firelight nor sound betrayed the presence of the Texas Rangers.
“Grand, indeed, is nature,” commented Dave. “Just look at the poetic lights and shadows playing over yonder hills. Doesn’t it look wonderfully peaceful? How can there be any trouble in such a world?”