As Crothers had foretold, the white glare of the earth lighted up the night until objects were almost as distinct as by daylight. The outlines of Fort Hetherill were clear. I could even trace the ridges in the bark. Any of us advancing would make a most beautiful target, and we stuck to our determination to wait for further darkness. The column of smoke from the colonel's hut increased, as if he too felt the growing cold and would ward it off. Midnight came, and shortly afterward the heavens began to darken. The outlines of Fort Hetherill grew dimmer. I could no longer trace the ridges in the bark; then the hut itself became an indistinct mass, seeming to wave in the wind, which still came down from the mountain-tops and presented bayonet-points to us. The time seemed favorable for an advance upon the enemy's fortifications. Our plan was very simple; we formed a circle around the hut, intending to contract this circle until we reached the house itself, when we would rush in and seize the garrison. The difficult part of it was to steal up so silently that the garrison would not hear us coming: to do it we would be compelled to creep along, taking advantage of every elevation that would shelter us. Crothers and I started from adjacent points in the little wood, and set out upon our hazardous advance. The ground was broken and rough, and I soon lost sight of him, but, despite his efforts to be noiseless, I could hear his heavy-soled boots scraping over the ice, and his breath puffy like that of a man who was working hard. I dare say I was interrupting the atmosphere in a similar manner; but then I was criticising Crothers, not myself. I got along pretty well, and was half-way to Fort Hetherill. I ceased to hear Crothers for two or three minutes, and then I heard him scraping along and puffing as before. As we had come half the distance without trouble or resistance, I thought I would go over to him and hold another conference. It seemed to me that we needed at least one more council of war before attacking the hut, if we were to follow strictly the mode of procedure prescribed in the military manuals. Turning about, I crept and slid toward him until a little ridge not more than half a foot high divided us. I could see his figure stretched out on the ice, and I reached out to touch him. But I was anticipated, for he reached up and grasped me by the throat with two very strong hands. Then I saw that instead of stalking Colonel Hetherill, he had stalked me, the stalker was stalked, and I recognized in it a fact as painful as it was alarming.