“Well, well! I hope to get my night’s rest out without interruption,” answered Uncle Denis, as he stretched himself on the ground, and turned on his side to go to sleep.
Chapter Eight.
Ready for the foe—Dio’s master-stroke—The battle—Defeat of the redskins—Watching through the night—A reconnoitring party—A perilous duty—The coast clear—Exploring the woods—The rustling in the leaves—An American lion—Fight between a puma and boar—Fresh provisions—No enemy near—Tim Casey’s redskins—The start—Seeking a ford—Crossing discovered by Dio—A cavalry engagement—Death of an Indian chief—A strange colony—Prairie dogs—Scarcity of water—Sufferings of the party—Set out to procure relief—Make for Fort Hamilton—Horses bitten by rattle-snake—A welcome sign—Friends or foes—The sergeant of the guard—The challenge after the shot—The fort reached—Our reception—The doctor’s treatment of my horse—A visit to the fortifications.
Kept on the alert by Mr Tidey’s warnings, I continued racing up and down the portion of the camp which had been allotted to me to guard. It was the north-west angle, contained by the line of breastwork which ran along the edge of the ravine and half of that by the brink of the cliff. I frequently stopped to listen, stretching over as far as I could to look down into the depths of the gorge below, I had been on watch about an hour and had just reached the eastern end of my beat, where it joined that of Dio, who was posted at the northern angle, when I saw the black come creeping towards me.
“Hist! Massa Mike,” he whispered, “me tink me hear someting down below, may be bear or painter, or may be red-skin comin’ to try and cut our t’roats. He no get in so easy ’dough. Jes’ come an’ say what you t’ink it is, Massa Mike, but not show yourself, or if red-skin savage him shoot his arrow.”
Following Dio’s example, I stooped down and crept cautiously on to the point to which he conducted me. We listened attentively. The sound of the cattle cropping the grass, or the cry of some night-bird, and now and then the snore of a sleeper, alone broke the silence of night.
“I can hear no sounds, Dio,” I whispered.
“Dat show me dat he no bear, painter, or wolf, for dey rush about de brushwood. Red-skin too clever for dat.”