this Fred rose to his feet and flung an armful of wood on the
flames, which brightened up until their reflection was thrown against
the branches overhead and well out toward the edge of the grove. A faint
whinny proved that the horses had been disturbed by the increase in the
illumination.

Before lying down, Fred looked at his chum.

"I wonder, Jack, whether there's any risk of your falling asleep?"

"There would be if I remained seated on the ground, but I shall not do
that."

"It will be dangerous to walk back and forth, where the fire shows you
plainly."

"My plan is to move out in the grove, where the firelight will not
strike me, and stand close to the trunk of one of the trees. I have
heard of folks sleeping on their feet, but there's no fear of my doing
it. Since I am to call you in less than two hours, Fred, you would
better get sleep while you can."

The younger lad bade his friend good-night and imitated the action of
Hank Hazletine, wrapping his blanket around himself and lying down near
the fire. He was not quite so prompt in sinking into slumber, but it was
not long before Jack Dudley was the only one of the little party in
command of his senses.

Jack, like his companions, felt the need of sleep, but the fact that he
had but a brief while to remain awake, and the consciousness that the
safety of others, as well as his own, rested upon himself, made him very
alert. He believed he could sit or recline on the ground and retain his
wits, but, fortunately, he had too much prudence to run that risk. Sleep
is so insidious a foe that we can never recall the moment when it
overmasters us, nor can we fight it off when in a prone or easy posture.

He adhered to the plan he had formed. Winchester in hand, he moved away
from the fire until, by interposing the large trunk of a tree between
himself and the light, he was invisible from that direction. He stood
erect, taking care not to lean against the trunk for partial support,
and concentrated his faculties into those of listening and looking.

The stillness was profound. From the distant mountains to the westward
came a low, soft, almost inaudible murmur, such as one hears when many
miles from the calm ocean, and which has been called the voice of
silence itself. In the stillness he heard the faint crackle of one of
the embers as it fell apart, and, though the night wind scarcely stirred
the leaves over his head, he caught the rustle. The fact that there wa