He stood erect, taking care not to lean against the trunk for partial support, and concentrated his faculties into those of listening and looking.
The stillness was profound.

From the distant mountains to the westward came a low, soft, almost inaudible murmur, such as one hears when many miles from the calm ocean, and which has been called the voice of silence itself.

In the stillness he heard the faint crackle of one of the embers as it fell apart, and, though the night wind scarcely stirred the leaves over his head, he caught the rustle.

The fact that there was nothing from the direction of the ponies showed they had ceased to crop the grass and were lying down.

The safety of the camp was in his hands.
If he forgot his duty, it might be fatal to all.
The sense of this responsibility and the newness of his position made Jack Dudley more wakeful than he could have been under any other circumstances.