At the end of the cornfield before him was the clump of laurel which he had marked from the cliff as his objective point.

The Indian corn was now about five feet high.

Wetzel passed through this field unseen.
He reached the laurel bushes, where he dropped to the ground and lay quiet a few minutes.

In the dash which he would soon make to the forest he needed all his breath and all his fleetness.

He looked to the right to see how far the woods was from where he lay.