I could not sleep for the cold, and about three o’clock in the morning, thoroughly chilled, I arose, took my gun in my hand, and walked briskly back and forth before the camp. Finding that this exercise did not greatly increase my comfort, I went down to the bank of the creek thirty yards distant and commenced gathering dry willows to make a fire. While thus employed I strayed down the stream about twenty rods from the camp. Suddenly I heard a confused murmur of voices, which at first I thought came from the camp, but, while walking towards it, found that it was from a different direction. Curiosity now overcame all thought of cold. I dropped the armful of sticks I had gathered, and carefully disentangling the little copse of willows which sheltered me from view, peered through, and saw in the dim moonlight three footmen approaching on the other side of the stream. The thought struck me that they might be campers in search of horses or mules that had strayed. I walked noiselessly down the stream, to a point where I could obtain through a vista an unobstructed view, my trusty gun held firmly in the hollow of my hand. The three men approached the opening through which I was gazing, and I now discovered that their features were concealed by loosely flowing masks. I no longer doubted their identity or purpose. Some little noise that I made attracted their attention to the spot where I was standing. They saw me, and, perceiving that I had recognized them, changed their course, and disappeared beyond a clump of willows.