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we found the ground fell away slightly in an area where the thick branches of two trees met. There was room enough to hide our horses there, out of sight and safe from stray bullets. In a matter of minutes, we had moved, added fresh fuel to our fire, and settled down behind our breast-work.
    â€œBetter get some sleep,” Talley advised. “I’ll stand watch.”
    The advice was good and we accepted it, stretching out on the ground. It was thickly bedded with leaves from the fallen trees and those that leaned above us, and we were soon asleep.
    Just before I fell finally asleep, I heard Ebitt saying to Kemble, “I never knowed all that about treaties and such. I heard about the purchase … that’s why I left Illinois to come west. How’d he know all that?”
    â€œComes of being a scholar,” Kemble said.
    And we all went to sleep.

CHAPTER 5
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    A WAKENING IN THE chill of the hour before dawn, I lay quite still looking up at the stars. At this hour, the sky seems unnaturally clear, and the stars close above. For a moment, lying there, I thought about all that I had seen and much that I had learned from the talk of the men with whom I traveled.
    The mind that is geared to learning, that is endlessly curious, cannot cease from contemplating and comparing. To many the grasslands over which we had been riding were simply that, but for me there was much to see, much to learn. No doubt the Indian knew all I was learning, and accepted it as a simple facet of his world.
    The tall grass we had left needed moisture, and no doubt during dry years it fell back toward the east with its rivers and its greater rainfall. Then the low-growing grasses invaded, took over, and retained a hold on the earth until once more the wet years brought back the tall bluestem and its companions of the soil.
    The buffalo grazed wherever there was grass, into Georgia, Pennsylvania, Kentucky, and Tennessee, but they seemed to like the open country best, out where the long wind blew and the sun was hot upon the low rolling hills.
    A whisper snapped me to attention. It was Shanagan. “I believe we’re to have comp’ny,” he said softly.
    Rolling out, I swiftly brought my blankets together, tied them into a neat bundle, and took them to my saddle. My Ferguson was under my arm, but I hastily completed dressing by pulling on my boots and hitching my knife into its proper place.
    Our fire had burned low. I could see the red glow of the coals lying just over there. Around me there were furtive stirrings as the others took their places.
    Yet when it came we were startled, for they came with a rush and wild warwhoops intended to frighten and demoralize. That such an attack out of the night would have that effect was beyond question, for ready as we were, it was a shock to hear them.
    They rushed into the camp, and as one man, we fired. At least two Indians dropped. I think there were more, but in the vague light and with surrounding trees and brush, it was difficult to see.
    My own rifle was almost instantly loaded, yet I held my fire a moment to give the others a start on reloading, not wanting all to be empty at once. Shanagan fired his pistol, and then I fired and instantly reloaded … and then there were no targets.
    The attackers had vanished as swiftly as they had come.
    A body or two lay sprawled near our fire, but that was all, and there was no sound.
    The sky was turning gray, with a faint touch of lemon light along the eastern horizon, and far above us a wisp of cloud blushed faintly.
    We waited behind our fallen timber, watching the light grow. Slowly the blackness took on shape and form, the shapes became trees, bushes, and rocks, and on the ground a dead Indian. From under the bushes, I saw the feet of another.
    Still we waited, and as the light grew, we could see the plain was empty of life. At last Degory Kemble came out from the redoubt and went to the nearest of the fallen