ok
at the foot of the bluff and courted the "drowsy god" in vain. He was
tired and his eyes were heavy, but he could not go to sleep. After
rolling and tossing about for nearly two hours, he became too nervous to
remain inactive any longer, so he slung his rifle on his back and
climbed to the top of the bluff, where he found Bob Owens and two other
non-commissioned officers sitting beside a fire and conversing in low
tones. At another fire a short distance away sat Lieutenant Earle, the
officer of the guard, nodding over his pipe.

"Hallo!" exclaimed Bob, "what brought you out here?"

"Oh, I want somebody to talk to," replied George, throwing himself on
the ground by his friend's side, "Somehow, I can't sleep, and that's a
new thing for me."

"You are not afraid of the hostiles, are you?" asked a corporal from the
other side of the fire.

"Oh no, because I know that we have nothing to fear from them on such a
night as this. If there were any hostiles in the neighborhood, they
might slip up and steal a few horses, if they thought they could get
away with their booty, but they wouldn't attack a party of the size of
ours and bring on an open fight. It is too dark."

"Why, that is just the reason they _would_ attack us," exclaimed the
corporal, who, although he had often been on a scout, had never
participated in a battle. "They rely upon the darkness to cover their
movements and to assist them in effecting a surprise. I have read it a
hundred times."

"Ah, yes," replied George--"story-book Indians make attacks at all hours
of the day and night, but live Plains Indians don't. The reason for it
is this: They believe that they will go into the happy hunting-grounds
with just the same surroundings that attend their departure from this
world. If an Indian is crippled or blind or ill, he will be just the
same Indian in the spirit-land. If he dies from the effects of disease,
he will suffer from that disease for ever; but if he is killed in battle
on a pleasant day, and while he is in the possession of all his strength
and faculties, he will go straight to the Indian's heaven under the most
favorable circumstances."

"Suppose he is killed on a rainy day?" said the corporal on the other
side of the fire.

"Or a snowy one?" chimed in a sergeant.

"Then he is doomed to paddle through rain or snow through all eternity,"
replied George; "and that he doesn't like either is proved by the fact
that he will not stir out of cam