We had a big camp-fire, and sat around it until very late.

There were only five or six officers, and Mrs.Bailey and myself.
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.