He
said: "Don't worry, Martha, an Apache never was known to attack
in the night," and after hearing many repetitions of this
assertion, upon which I made him take his oath, I threw myself
upon the bed. After our candle was out, I said: "When do they
attack?" Jack who, with the soldiers' indifference to danger, was
already half asleep, replied: "Just before daylight, usually, but
do not worry, I say; there aren't any Injuns in this
neighborhood. Why! Didn't you meet General Crook to-day? You
ought to have some sense. If there'd been an Injun around here he
would have cleaned him out. Now go to sleep and don't be
foolish." But I was taking my first lessons in campaigning, and
sleep was not so easy.
Just before dawn, as I had fallen into a light slumber, the flaps
of the tent burst open, and began shaking violently to and fro. I
sprang to my feet, prepared for the worst. Jack started up: "What
is it?" he cried.
"It must have been the wind, I think, but it frightened me," I
murmured. The Lieutenant fastened the tent-flaps together, and
lay down to sleep again; but my heart beat fast, and I listened
for every sound.
The day gradually dawned, and with it my fears of the night were
allayed. But ever after that, Jack's fatal answer, "Just before
daylight," kept my eyes wide open for hours before the dawn.
