The Pioneer Boys of the Columbia; or, In the Wilderness of the Great NorthwestRathborne, St. George
General
The Pioneer Boys of the Columbia; or, In the Wilderness of the Great Northwest
Rathborne, St. George
Columbia River -- Juvenile fiction; Frontier and pioneer life -- Juvenile fiction
The other had also caught a faint rustling sound, and knew that in all
probability the two captains must be about to join them. Surely enough,
in a short time the men reached the side of the boys, exercising all
the skill possible to avoid making their presence known to others.
Few words passed between them, for the plan of campaign had been laid
out, and each one knew what lay before them. The firelight flickered
upon the side of the supply tent, and it was in this quarter mostly
that their gaze was fastened. In fact, Captain Lewis and his fellow
officer depended wholly on the wide-awake boys to let them know when
anything happened, for they themselves lay stretched out at full length
upon the ground.
One by one the men sitting by the fire began to vanish, some yawning,
and others simply stretching themselves with the air of weariness
natural after a strenuous day at the oars.
Finally an atmosphere of desertion seemed to have come upon the camp.
The fire died down slowly, and not a movement could be seen. Somewhere,
near by, the appointed sentries stood guard, but their duty was
wholly in the line of making sure that an enemy did not surprise the
adventurous company from without. Those in the camp were supposed to be
above suspicion.
Roger was beginning to grow impatient. The minutes were dragging along,
so far as he was concerned, and he began to fear that, after all,
the scheme, so cleverly planned by Captain Lewis, would fail to be a
success.
What if the fellow had become suspicious, and determined not to allow
himself to be attracted by the bait? They would have their long night
vigil for nothing, and be no nearer to learning the truth than before.
Roger lacked the patience and perseverance of his chum, though he had
many good qualities of his own.
It must have been almost midnight when Dick caught sight of a shadowy
figure moving just beyond the supply tent. At first he thought it might
be a wolf that had boldly crept into the camp, though such a thing
seemed absurd; then he became satisfied that it must be a man on his
hands and knees, crawling along slowly, and heading for the isolated
tent.
When satisfied in this respect he whispered in the ear of Roger, and
touched both the recumbent captains on the arm. This had been a signal
agreed on in case of necessity, and, as they were on the alert, they
lost no time in making good use of their eyes.
The creeper was now close to the tent. Every few feet he would sink
down flat to the ground, and remain perfectly still for a time. No
doubt at such intervals the man was listening intently to discover the
slightest movement in the camp that might mean danger to him.
Both boys fairly held their breath when they saw the shadowy figure
reach the tent and hastily creep under the flap. Just how long it would
take him to find what he was after no one could say, but the time had
arrived for those who were watching the tent to make a forward move.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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