“What?” he demanded. “That? Horse drinking――or maybe a coyote tuning up. Go to sleep. We’ve got plenty sentries.” And he irritably pulled his wet, heavy blanket higher, over his chin, for the dense fog was thrusting its clammy fingers down his neck.
“Sounds to me like one of those Mexican carts squeaking,” asserted Jim. “Don’t hear it now, but I’ve _been_ hearing it, I tell you. If it wasn’t for those sentries I’d say that Cos was crossing a cannon through the river.”
“Well, Henry Karnes is out on guard, and he’ll hear things if anybody can,” retorted Ernest. “So will those fellows in the cupola.” And as fast as possible he took another cat-nap.
Next he was awakened for keeps. In his ears echoed a shrill Texas “Whoo-ee!”――as from a distance. Up and down the lines of prone figures word was being passed for all to tumble out.
“Somebody yelled from the cupola!” babbled Jim, likewise awake, as he and Ernest struggled to sit up and pull on their damp boots. Ghostly figures on either side were doing the same. “That’s an alarm. I heard what I heard and they heard what I heard and I heard what they heard, I reckon.”
The fog upon the camp was astir, but all movements and voices were hushed by the heavy mist. The appointed mess cooks had been busy for some time, evidently; camp-fire smoke and the fragrance of coffee wafted pleasingly through the heavy air.
“Aren’t attacked yet, are we?” stammered Ernest.
“No. The fog out yonder’s full of Mexicans, though, I ’low. Hope it holds till we get our coffee. Come on.”
Exchanging brief comments, and listening tensely, the men hastily drank their coffee, and munched their bread and beef. If the Mexicans were surrounding them, it was being done very quietly. However, more than one in the camp had thought he had heard suspicious sounds. And that cry from the cupola!
“There goes the change of guard,” remarked Jim, as he and Ernest finished breakfast, still in the fog. “We-all don’t move till the fog raises.”
Scarcely had he spoken, when from the front, where in the mist the prairie abruptly fell to the bottom-land, broke a quick muffled spatter of shots――followed at once by the single, smarter report of a rifle.
“Ball’s opened!” shouted someone in the little mess; and every member grabbed his gun and scrambled to his feet.