The old guard marched off and the new one on, throwing off their blanket-rolls and making themselves as comfortable for the night as possible. But two men at a time were required to remain awake and vigilant. Night came on as black as the enemy they were fighting, and with it all the breath-stopping and hair-raising noises that the myriads of flying and crawling animals of that war-ridden country produces. There was the "vantriloquest" bird, gifted with a voice that is the essence of all that is frightful and hideous in sounds--forty demons running amuck and coming your direction. In painful harmony was the low, deep tones the "chuck me," whose vocal cords are tuned after the left end of the key-board of the pipe organ. Then there were slimy lizards, chameleons, tree-frogs, scorpions, and wonderful bugs, all with voices peculiar to their families. There were lightning-bugs as big as jack-o'-lanterns, and tarantulas with round and velvety bodies, and a spread of legs that would cover a frying-pan. All this and the known presence of a sneaking enemy was enough to test the nerves of veterans, so its effect on recruits can easily be imagined. Timmons' time to remain awake and go on post duty arrived. Jones, who called himself an old "vet," because he had served in Cuba, went on with "Tim," as his comrades called him. Their turn began at midnight. The Sergeant, who had posted them, was soon lying down taking a non-commissioned officer's sleep--one eye closed, the other on the _qui vive_. Both sentries were on the alert. Many suspicious noises came to their ears, and imaginary murderous-looking "niggers" were seen lurking in the grass, behind rice-dykes, and lying crouching on the ground. If "Tim" discovered something that he was certain was a death-dealing boloman, he would tiptoe over to Jones and hold a council of war. That worthy--the old "vet"--would dispense nerve-soothing whispers in his ears, and he would return to his post a less nervous "rookey."