reach it.

I was still some stirred up about being peppered, and so I went straight
to the other fire. The two fellows were there cleaning a couple of
squirrels.

"Who shot them?" I asked.

"Walt."

"And he nearly filled me full of holes, too," I said. "Look at my hat."

"Who nearly filled you full of holes?" asked Walt.

"You did."

"Aw, I didn't, either. I wasn't anywhere near you."

"You were, too," I answered, hot. "You shot right down over the hill,
and when I yelled at you, you shot again."

Walt was well scared.

"'Twasn't me," he said. "I saw you start out and I went opposite."

"Well, you ought to be careful, shooting in the direction of camp," I
said.

"Didn't hurt you."

"It might have put my eyes out, just the same." And I had to go back and
clean my game and gun. We had a good supper. The other fellows kept to
their own camp and we could smell them smoking cigarettes. With them
close, and with news that another crowd was out, we were obliged to
mount night guard.

There was no use in two of us staying awake at the same time, and we
divided the night into four watches--eight to eleven, eleven to one, one
to three, three to five. The first watch was longest, because it was the
easiest watch. We drew lots for the partners who would sleep all night,
and Jed Smith and Major Henry found they wouldn't have to watch. We four
others would.

Fitz went on guard first, from eight to eleven. At eleven he would wake
Carson, and would crawl into Carson's place beside of General Ashley.
At one Carson would wake me, and would crawl into my place where I was
alone. And at three I would wake General Ashley and crawl into his place
beside Fitz again. So we would disturb each other just as little as
possible and only at long intervals. (Note 32.)

It seemed to me that I had the worst watch of all--from one to three; it
broke my night right in two. Of course a Scout takes what duty comes,
and says nothing. But jiminy, I was sleepy when Carson woke me and I had
to stagger out into the dark and the cold. He cuddled down in a hurry
into my warm nest and there I was, on guard over the sleeping camp, here
in the timber far away from lights or houses or people.

The fire was out, but I could see by star shine. Low in the west was a
half moon, just sinking behind the mountains there. Down in the flat
which we had left coyotes were barking. Maybe they smelled fawns.
Somebody was snoring. That was fatty Jed Smith.