And it
was not an all-imagined morrow that we probed with our sharp
guesses, for the lights of those low Philistines, the men of the
caves, still hung over our heads, and we knew by their yells that
the fire of our bivouac had shown us.
At length we thought it well to seek for sleep. Our plans were
laid for keeping up a good watch through the night. My quilt and
my pelisse and my cloak were spread out so that I might lie
spokewise, with my feet towards the central fire. I wrapped my
limbs daintily round, and gave myself positive orders to sleep like
a veteran soldier. But I found that my attempt to sleep upon the
earth that God gave me was more new and strange than I had fancied
it. I had grown used to the scene which was before me whilst I was
sitting or reclining by the side of the fire, but now that I laid
myself down at length it was the deep black mystery of the heavens
that hung over my eyes--not an earthly thing in the way from my own
very forehead right up to the end of all space. I grew proud of my
boundless bedchamber. I might have "found sermons" in all this
greatness (if I had I should surely have slept), but such was not
then my way.
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