Bram and his pack hunted like that.

And it was Bram who was coming.

He knew it.
He ran back to his tent and in what remained of the heat of the fire he warmed for a few moments the breech of his rifle.

Then he smothered the fire by kicking snow over it.

Returning to the edge of the plain, he posted himself near the largest spruce he could find, up which it would be possible for him to climb a dozen feet or so if necessity drove him to it.