veil, through which I put the mouth-piece of my pipe.

When it became really dark, I lighted the lantern, and we prepared
for a well-earned night's rest. The tent was spacious and
comfortable, and we each had a nice little cot-bed.

"Are you going to leave the front-door open all night?" said
Euphemia, as I came in after a final round to see that all was
right.

"I should hardly call this canvas-flap a front-door," I said, "but
I think it would be better to leave it open; otherwise we should
smother. You need not be afraid. I shall keep my gun here by my
bedside, and if any one offers to come in, I'll bring him to a full
stop quick enough."

"Yes, if you are awake. But I suppose we ought not to be afraid of
burglars here. People in tents never are. So you needn't shut
it."

It was awfully quiet and dark and lonely, out there by that creek,
when the light had been put out, and we had gone to bed. For some
reason I could not go to sleep. After I had been lying awake for
an hour or two, Euphemia spoke:

"Are you awake?" said she, in a low voice, as if she were afraid of
disturbing the people in the next room.

"Yes," said I. "How long have you been awake?"