He knew that the most of the Southern scouts and skirmishers were as wary as the Indians that once hunted in these woods, and that, unless he used extreme care, he was not likely to get past them.
He came at last to a point where he lay down flat on his stomach and wormed himself along, keeping in the thickest shadow of woods and bushes.

The night was bright, and although his own body was blended with the ground, he could see well about him.

The sergeant was a very patient man.

Life as a lumberman and then as a soldier on the plains had taught him to look where he was crawling.

He spent a full hour worming himself up to the crest of that ridge and a little way down on the other side.
In the course of the last fifteen minutes he passed directly between two alert and vigilant Southern pickets.