five A.M.
I did dream stuff that would shame a Wild West scenario , but I understand it all now -- my dreams were influenced by T. Haviland Hicks , Jr. ! '' At that dramatic moment , to substantiate his statement , the raucous voice , accompanied by resounding chords strummed on a banjo , sounded again . The vocal and instrumental chaos was frequently punctured by revolver reports , as the torturesome Caruso outside roared : `` Oh , Chuckwalla Bill thought life was sweet -- Till he met up with Sure-shot Pete ; A hotter shootin ' match Last Chance never saw -- But Sure-shot Pete was some quicker on the draw ! '' The pachydermic Butch , fully dressed -- and awake , raging in his wrath like an active volcano , glanced at his watch , and discovered that it was exactly five A.M. ! Intensely pacified by this knowledge , he lumbered toward the bunkhouse door and flung it open , determined to crush the pestersome youth who thus unfeelingly disturbed the quietude of Camp Bannister at such an unearthly hour ! However , his grim purpose was temporarily thwarted -- before him spread a beautiful panorama , a vast canvas painted in rich hues and colors , that indescribably charming masterpiece of nature , entitled dawn . Butch , gazing from the bunkhouse doorway toward the pebbly shore of the placid lake stretching out for two miles before him , beheld Old Sol , blood-red , peeping above the wooded hills on the far-off , opposite strand of Lake Conowingo ; the luminous orb laid a flaming pathway across the shimmering waters , and golden bars of light , like gleaming fingers outstretched , fell athwart the tall pines that towered on the high bluff back of the camp .