midnight
The night wore on . The fires of willow twigs and _ bois des vaches _ fell into pale coals , into ashes . The chill of the Plains came , so that the sleepers in the great wagon corral drew their blankets closer about them as they lay . It was approaching midnight when the silence was ripped apart by the keen crack of a rifle -- another and yet another . Then , in a ripple of red detonation , the rifle fire ran along the upper front of the entire encampment . `` Turn out ! Turn out , men ! ''