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.
"A dead branch," said some one.
Major Worth shrugged his shoulders, and turning to Jack, said, in
a low tone, "D - - d if I don't believe I'm getting nervous," and
saying "good night," he walked towards his tent.
No element of doubt pervaded my mind as to my own state. The
weird feeling of being up in those remote mountain passes, with
but a handful of soldiers against the wary Apaches, the
mysterious look of those black tree-trunks, upon which flickered
the uncertain light of the camp-fire now dying, and from behind
each one of which I imagined a red devil might be at that moment
taking aim with his deadly arrow, all inspired me with fear such
as I had never before known.
In the cyclone which had overtaken our good ship in mid-Atlantic,
where we lay tossing about at the mercy of the waves for
thirty-six long hours, I had expected to yield my body to the dark
and grewsome depths of the ocean. I had almost felt the cold arms
of Death about me; but compared to the sickening dread of the
cruel Apache, my fears then had been as naught. Facing the
inevitable at sea, I had closed my eyes and said good-bye to
Life. But in this mysterious darkness, every nerve, every sense,
was keenly alive with terror.
Several of that small party around the camp-fire have gone from
amongst us, but I venture to say that ,of the few who are left,
not one will deny that he shared in the vague apprehension which
seized upon us.
Midnight found us still lingering around the dead ashes of the
fire.
