After spending half an hour thus, I go out. The men have finished their supper, and are going back to the yard. They choose sheltered positions, where stack or crib wards off the wind, and there lay down a little mattress of corn fodder. Two of them then join forces in blankets and sleep together. After looking at the men, and walking round among the horses, I turn toward the crib where I am to spend the night. There is a good bed of corn leaves spread upon the ground; at the head, the crib breaks the wind, and at the foot, my horse stands picketed to the fence; a little to one side sleep the guard; and around, ready saddled and bridled, stand their horses. It will soon be time for the second relief to go out, so I wait. Soon the corporal on camp guard comes up, and pulling out his watch, says, "Ten o'clock." "Then call up the next relief." They are soon up: the men for picket mount their horses; the sergeant takes two and rides down one road--the corporal two and rides down the other; the new sentinel takes the place of the old one, who quickly crawls into his bed among the corn leaves. "Call me," I say to the other, "if you hear any alarm, and when it is time to relieve guard." "Yes, sir:" and I lie down. I unclasp my belt, and draw my sabre and pistol close beside me. You do not know how much like friends they seem. The corn leaves feel cold and damp; the night is dark; and the wind wails mournfully. I draw my buffalo close, and wish I were warm and asleep. For a moment I raise my head, for up the road I hear the tramp of horses. It is slow and regular; the sergeant returning with the men on picket. They come in, fasten their horses, and lie down under their blankets; and they and I fall asleep. I have not slept long, and was but just roused by some one laying his hand on my shoulder. It is the guard. I am up in an instant, and ask what is the matter. Nothing, it is time to relieve the picket. Again the sergeant and the corporal go out with the fresh relief, and again I lie down to sleep. At last the camp guard, as he calls me, says, "Four o'clock," instead of "Time to relieve," and then I order "Call up the men."