One by one the stars appeared; then the crescent moon rose over the wooded hill in the west, and the hunter never moved.

With his head leaning against the log he sat quiet and patient.

At midnight he whispered to the dog, and crawling from his hiding place glided stealthily up the stream.
Far ahead from the dark depths of the forest peeped the flickering light of a camp-fire.

Wetzel consumed a half hour in approaching within one hundred feet of this light.

Then he got down on his hands and knees and crawled behind a tree on top of the little ridge which had obstructed a view of the camp scene.
From this vantage point Wetzel saw a clear space surrounded by pines and hemlocks.