Explore "The Insurgent Chief" by Gustave Aimard on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The night was calm; nothing disturbed its peaceful and majestic tranquillity. The guardsmen kept watch with a conscientious alertness over the repose of their kinsmen, which is not very often the case among the Indians.
At about half past four in the morning, the darkness gradually began to give way to the still faint glow of the first daylight; the sky painted itself with broad strokes of changing colours, which at last blended into a brilliant red, and the sun appeared rising above the horizon as if it had come from a furnace, suddenly illuminating the heavens with its resplendent rays, which resembled flakes of fire.