that something bad was going to happen. I did not know what it was, nor why
I felt so, but I was afraid. I seemed to turn to water inside of me. I had
never felt so before. I sat up and looked about; nothing was to be seen. My
friend was cutting some meat to cook over the little fire, and just beyond
him the horses were feeding. My friend was singing to himself a little war
song, as he worked.

My feelings grew worse instead of better. I stood up, took my gun, and
walked toward a little hill not far from where we were, and my friend
called out to me, "Where are you going? I thought you wished to rest." I
said to him, "I will go to the top of that little hill, and look over it."
When I got there I looked about; I could see nothing. It was early summer,
and the grass was green. The soil was soft and sandy. For a long time I
looked about in all directions, but could see nothing, but then I could not
see far, for there were other little hills, nearly as high, close to me.

Presently I looked at the ground a few steps before me, and I thought I saw
where something had stepped. It was hard for me to make up my mind to walk
to this place, but at length I did so. When I got there I saw where a horse
had stood--a fresh horse track. Near it were two tracks made by a man, an
enemy. I could see where he had stood, with one foot advanced before the
other. When I saw these tracks I knew what had happened; an enemy had stood
there looking over at us, and when he saw me with my gun start toward the
top of the hill he had gone away. Standing where he had stood, I looked
back toward our horses; I could hardly see their backs, but a man taller
than I could have seen more of them, and the heads of the two men. I turned
to follow the tracks a little way, and as I walked, it did not seem to me
that my bones were stiff enough to support my body; I seemed to sway from
side to side, and felt as if I should fall down. I was frightened.