He was anxious to get back to Albany with what he knew, and he felt sure that the northern forests contained only friends.

He had built his fire without apprehension, and sleep had overtaken him quickly.
A fox stirred in the thicket beyond the fire and looked suspiciously at the coals and the still figure beyond them.

He did not see the other two figures in the bushes but his animosity as well as his suspicion was aroused.

He edged a little nearer, and then a slight sound in the thicket caused him to creep back.

But he was an inquiring fox, and, although he buried himself under a bush, he still looked, staring with sharp, intent eyes.
He saw a shadow glide from the thicket, pick up the rifle of Garay which leaned against the fallen log, and then glide back, soundless.
The curiosity of the fox now prevailed over his suspicion.