of the fire was heard, and the mournful soughing of the wind in
the pines.

Suddenly, a crash! We started to our feet and faced around.

"A dead branch," said some one.

Major Worth shrugged his shoulders, and turning to Jack, said, in
a low tone, "D---- d if I don't believe I'm getting nervous," and
saying "good night," he walked towards his tent.

No element of doubt pervaded my mind as to my own state. The
weird feeling of being up in those remote mountain passes, with
but a handful of soldiers against the wary Apaches, the
mysterious look of those black tree-trunks, upon which flickered
the uncertain light of the camp-fire now dying, and from behind
each one of which I imagined a red devil might be at that moment
taking aim with his deadly arrow, all inspired me with fear such
as I had never before known.

In the cyclone which had overtaken our good ship in mid-Atlantic,
where we lay tossing about at the mercy of the waves for
thirty-six long hours, I had expected to yield my body to the dark
and grewsome depths of the ocean. I had almost felt the cold arms
of Death about me; but compared to the sickening dread of the
cruel Apache, my fears then had been as naught. Facing the
inevitable at sea, I had closed my eyes and said good-bye to
Life. But in this mysterious darkness, every nerve, every sense,
was keenly alive with terror.