Since I am to call you in less than two hours, Fred, you would better get sleep while you can." The younger lad bade his friend good-night and imitated the action of Hank Hazletine, wrapping his blanket around himself and lying down near the fire.

He was not quite so prompt in sinking into slumber, but it was not long before Jack Dudley was the only one of the little party in command of his senses.
Jack, like his companions, felt the need of sleep, but the fact that he had but a brief while to remain awake, and the consciousness that the safety of others, as well as his own, rested upon himself, made him very alert.

He believed he could sit or recline on the ground and retain his wits, but, fortunately, he had too much prudence to run that risk.

Sleep is so insidious a foe that we can never recall the moment when it overmasters us, nor can we fight it off when in a prone or easy posture.
He adhered to the plan he had formed.

Winchester in hand, he moved away from the fire until, by interposing the large trunk of a tree between himself and the light, he was invisible from that direction.