SLEEP.
The sentinel on his rounds, the watchman upon his beat, or the sailor
pacing the deck of his vessel in mid-ocean, keeps his senses awake by
the constant motion of his body. To sit down to rest for a few minutes
only is fatal. Sleep has the power of stealing over the faculties, and
wrapping them up in its embrace so insidiously, that no watchfulness can
guard against it unless artificial means, such as walking, are resorted
to. When Ned Chadmund resumed an easy position in front of his own camp
fire, the inevitable result followed. He resolved to keep his ears and
eyes open, and almost immediately closed them. A few minutes passed and
then his head began to nod. Several times he narrowly escaped tumbling
over, and, finally rousing, he vigorously rubbed his eyes, yawned, and
arose to his feet.
"My gracious! this won't do," he exclaimed, with a shuddering sense of
the danger he was running. "A bear might steal right up to me and eat me
up before I could help myself. If I'm going to play sentinel, I must do
it like a man."
Straightway he began pacing back and forth in front of the blaze, his
beat extending some twenty feet back and forth. He carried his rifle on
his shoulder and proved the thoroughness of his vigilance by an
occasional glance at the top of the rock, from which the mountain wolf
had made its death leap. The coast remained clear. The far-off sounds
which had attracted his attention a short time before were not repeated,
and, as the labor of walking back and forth grew a little wearisome, he
began to argue the question with himself.
"I wonder whether there isn't some way of resting without working? If
I've got to walk all night, what shall I be good for to-morrow? I don't
see any fun in this sort of business. Ah, I know how I'll fix it; I'll
kindle two fires."
He acted upon the idea at once. He had gathered such an abundance of
fuel that he had no fear of the supply running out. In a few minutes he
had a second fire started, about a dozen feet from the other, while he
stowed himself away directly between them. His position, he soon
discovered, was rather warmer than he anticipated, but he speedily
remedied this by permitting each fire to subside in a slight degree.
"This is nice," he muttered, shrinking up against the rock. "I don't
think any wild creature would harm me unless he tumbled over the top of
the rock there and dropped on my head. Even then I think I should wake
up soon enough to use my gun on him. But then, I guess I won't go to
sleep."
Five minutes later his head was nodding again, and utter unconsciousness
speedily followed. But one of the brands in the fire on his right fell,
and there was a slight crackling explosion of the embers--as is often
the case. A glowing spark flew outward and dropped upon the limp hand of
the sleeping youngster.
Simultaneously there was a yell, and the lad leaped several feet from
the ground, dancing about like a rejoicing warrior and flinging his hand
as if he were trying to shake off some clinging reptile.
"I should like to know who did that?" he exclaimed, a little confused by
the startling manner in which he had been aroused. "I guess I understand
how it all came about, though," he added, as he examined the stinging
blister upon the back of his hand.
The pain from this little wound effectually banished all sleep for the
time. Ned busied himself in replenishing the fire, and then walked out
in the gloom and looked about. Everything was the same. The night was
dark,--no moon being visible,--and an oppressive sultriness was in the
atmosphere. It seemed as if some elemental disturbance were close at
hand, but in looking to the sky no presage of it could be discovered.
After wandering about for some time, the lad spat upon some earth, and,
plastering it over the smarting blister, succeeded in shutting out the
air from it and secured considerable relief.
"It must be that I am all alone," he added, standing still and
listening. "No one is near and no one sees me but God. He has taken care
of me in the past, and He will not forsake me in future," he added,
looking reverently upward.
The old feeling of drowsiness again stole over him and he determined to
secure a night's rest--that is, during the portion of the night that
remained. Still the fact that the fires had run down somewhat raised the
inquiry in his mind as to what was likely to happen in case they went
out altogether. If any more grizzly bears should put in an appearance,
his situation would not be of the most inviting nature, but he had
argued himself into the belief that no further peril of this character
threatened. By placing a goodly amount of fuel upon the fires he hoped
to keep them going until daylight, or until his slumber was over. Had he
been able to find a suitable tree, he would have made his bed in that,
even at the risk of another disagreeable fall, but nothing of the kind
could be seen, and he had already grown weary of hunting for some hiding
place among the rocks. Accordingly, the camp fires were replenished and
he resumed his former position between them, covering his hands very
carefully, lest another spark should drop in the same place.
"I wish it was colder!" he exclaimed, when he found the place growing
uncomfortably warm. "If it was winter now, I shouldn't want anything
nicer."
He stood it like a hero, however, and by and by his place became more
pleasant, for the reason that the fuel was rapidly burning down. About
this time sleep regained possession of his senses, and, cramped up
though he was, with his back against the rock, his slumber was scarcely
less sound than if he were stretched out upon his blanket beneath a tree
in the forest.
At the time young Chadmund relapsed into unconsciousness it was nearly
midnight, and for nearly two hours following there was scarcely the
slightest change in the surroundings. The fires burned low, until the
figure of the lad braced up against the rock grew dim and shadowy in the
deepening gloom. Scarcely a breath of air stirred the vegetation about
him, and everything seemed to be calculated to lull one into a deep,
soothing, dreamless sleep. But at the end of the time mentioned,
something came out of the undergrowth and advanced stealthily toward
him. It was vague, shadowy, and so dimly outlined that at first its form
could not be recognized; but as it glided closer to the fire, there was
enough light remaining to disclose the figure of another wolf.
Like a phantom born of the gloom itself, it moved toward the unconscious
lad, until scarcely a dozen feet intervened. Then, as if directed by
Providence, one of the embers snapped apart, throwing out a sudden
flame, which momentarily lit up the surrounding darkness. Like a flash
the wolf slunk back, and then, pausing, stood and stared at the lad,
licking his jaws as if in anticipation of the feast he expected to enjoy
upon him.
As the flames subsided again, and the same gloom crept over the scene,
the hideous creature stole up again, resolved to have the meal displayed
so temptingly before him. Once more he was within reach, still advancing
with jaws distended--ready to leap upon him. The boy slumbered
dreamlessly on. Still nearer crept the wolf until Ned was at his mercy.
At this critical juncture, something whizzed from the upper surface of
the rock, with the velocity almost of a bullet. It was a tomahawk,
which, speeding true to its aim, struck the unsuspicious wolf fairly and
with such terrific force that his skull was cloven in twain as
completely as if smitten by the headsman's ax. There was scarcely time
for the wild yelp as he tumbled over backward. But, such as it was, it
aroused Ned, who sprang to his feet and gazed about him with an alarmed
and bewildered air. Before he could fairly comprehend what had taken
place he saw figures descending and approaching. It was too late to
retreat. He was surrounded.
"I'm a goner now!" he muttered.
But as the firelight brightened, he saw the kindly faces of Tom Hardynge
and Dick Morris.