Until midnight he lay in concealment and all that time the
mourners continued their dismal wailing. Then, one by one,
they entered their huts, and silence reigned within the village.
Billy crept closer. He eyed each hut with longing, wondering
gaze. Which could it be? How could he determine? One
seemed little more promising than the others. He had noted
those to which Indians had retired. There were three into
which he had seen none go. These, then, should be the first to
undergo his scrutiny.
The night was dark. The moon had not yet risen. Only a
few dying fires cast a wavering and uncertain light upon the
scene. Through the shadows Billy Byrne crept closer and
closer. At last he lay close beside one of the huts which was
to be the first to claim his attention.
For several moments he lay listening intently for any sound
which might come from within; but there was none. He
crawled to the doorway and peered within. Utter darkness
shrouded and hid the interior.
Billy rose and walked boldly inside. If he could see no one
within, then no one could see him once he was inside the
door. Therefore, so reasoned Billy Byrne, he would have as
good a chance as the occupants of the hut, should they prove
to be enemies.
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