We had a big camp-fire, and sat around it
until very late. There were only five or six officers, and Mrs.
Bailey and myself.
The darkness and blackness of the place were uncanny. We all sat
looking into the fire. Somebody said, "Injuns would not have such
a big fire as that."
"No; you bet they wouldn't," was the quick reply of one of the
officers.
Then followed a long pause; we all sat thinking, and gazing into
the fire, which crackled and leaped into fitful blazes.
"Our figures must make a mighty good outline against that fire,"
remarked one of officers, nonchalantly; "I dare say those
stealthy sons of Satan know exactly where we are at this minute,"
he added.
"Yes, you bet your life they do!" answered one of the younger
men, lapsing into the frontiersman's language, from the force of
his convictions.
"Look behind you at those trees, Jack," said Major Worth. "Can
you see anything? No! And if there were an Apache behind each one
of them, we should never know it."
We all turned and peered into the black darkness which
surrounded us.
Another pause followed; the silence was weird - only the cracking
of the fire was heard, and the mournful soughing of the wind in
the pines.
Suddenly, a crash! We started to our feet and faced around.
