Nearer and nearer; slowly but surely drew the hunter.

With what wonderful patience and self-control did this cold-blooded Nemesis approach his victims! Probably any other Indian slayer would have fired his rifle and then rushed to combat with a knife or a tomahawk.

Not so Wetzel.

He scorned to use powder.
He crept forward like a snake gliding upon its prey.

He slid one hand in front of him and pressed it down on the moss, at first gently, then firmly, and when he had secured a good hold he slowly dragged his body forward the length of his arm.