An hour or two after supper Fritz was sent to do sentinel duty, and he took his station about one hundred yards from camp, and stood, musket in hand, trying to peer into the darkness that encompassed him about. Fritz was not a coward by any means, but he was always a bit fearful of being slipped up on by an enemy in the darkness, and so he stood there, looking eagerly around, and listening intently. He heard occasional sounds, such as are usually to be heard in the timber at night, and at each sound he would grip his musket tightly, and face in the direction the sound came from, ready to fire if an enemy appeared. After a while, however, he became somewhat used to the noises, and did not start or show signs of nervousness. Still, he was not very well pleased with the work of standing sentinel. “I haf heard dot der retskins are so slyness dot dey gan slip up close midout anybody hearin’ dem,” Fritz muttered. “I vouldn’t lige to haf dem slip up on me, dot vay.” Slowly the time passed, and Fritz was standing leaning against a tree, after a while, resting his hands on the muzzle of his musket. He had been standing this way perhaps ten or fifteen minutes, when suddenly he heard a terrible racket in front of him. It startled Fritz, who thought that of course the noise was made by Indians, and he leveled his musket and fired a shot as quickly as possible, and then ran toward the encampment, yelling loudly: “Injuns! Der Injuns are comin’!” He did not stop till he was within the encampment, and the soldiers were up, muskets in hand, and many asked eagerly where the Indians were. “Dey’re comin’ bretty quickness!” cried Fritz. “I shot some uf dem, und der rest vill be here quick, alretty. Be ready to shoot dem!” The soldiers stood there, peering into the depths of the forest, but could not see any signs of Indians; nor was there any sound to indicate the presence of redskins. “What kind of a noise did you hear, Fritz?” asked one of the soldiers. “Oh, id vos a terrible racket, lige a lot uf Injuns fighdin’.” “Sure an’ Oi don’t belave ye heard inny Injuns at all, Dootchy,” said Tim. “Come wid me, an’ we’ll find out phwat made the racket.” One of the soldiers seized a brand from the fire, and quite a number made their way to the spot where Fritz had heard the noise, and there, stretched on the ground, dead, they found a wildcat. “Ho, ho, ho!” laughed Tim. “Sure an’ it’s a woildcat ye wur afther thinkin’ wur Injuns.” “He made a pretty good shot in the darkness, anyhow,” said another soldier. “Veil, I am alvays a good shot, alretty,” said Fritz. “But der wildcats made so much racket dot I though dere vos a lot uv redsgins comin’.” “If there were any redskins in the vicinity, you scared them away,” said a soldier. “Yah, I guess dot dey vouldn’t come back tonight, alretty,” said Fritz. The soldiers jollied Fritz a while, and then went back to camp and lay down and were soon asleep.