"I shot over the head of a prowler.

Go back to your tent, Washington," she directed, as the colored boy ran out ready to bolt into the bushes.
Grace had heard the prowler crash through the bushes in his haste to get away, and felt reasonably certain that they would not be troubled by him again that night.

In the meantime the others of her party had sprung from their tents, excitedly demanding to know what had occurred.

She told them briefly, and advised that they go back to sleep.
"You too turn in, Hippy," directed Grace.

"It is too bad to have spoiled that lovely sleep.