Then came the muffled crunch of approaching footsteps. Wade dove behind a mossy log, heart pounding. The moose, too large to hide, hunched low in the shadows. Voices murmured—a group returning, their tone triumphant. One glance at their loaded rifles told Wade they were the traveler’s team.
He crouched behind a low thicket, every nerve vibrating with tension. His pulse hammered so fiercely he feared the hunters might hear it pounding in the dark. Sweat stung his eyes as he peered between the tangled branches, desperately trying to track their movements.