I fell asleep.
Some one touched my hand, waking me suddenly.

I sprang to my feet and seized the man by the throat, before I recognised in the starlight that it was Isaacs.
"You are not a nice person to rouse," remarked he in a low voice, as I relaxed my grasp.

"You will have fever if you sleep out-of-doors at this time of year.

Now look here; it is past midnight, and I am going out a little way." I noticed that he had a _kookrie_ knife at his waist, and that his cartridge-belt was on his chest.
"I will go with you," said I, guessing his intention.

"I will be ready in a moment," and I began to move towards the tent.
"No.