edge of the woods.  I sat down there on a log, and looked out through the leaves.  I see the moon go off watch, and the darkness begin to blanket the river. But in a little while I see a pale streak over the treetops, and knowed the day was coming.  So I took my gun and slipped off towards where I had run across that camp fire, stopping every minute or two to listen.  But I hadn't no luck somehow; I couldn't seem to find the place.  But by and by, sure enough, I catched a glimpse of fire away through the trees.  I went for it, cautious and slow.  By and by I was close enough to have a look, and there laid a man on the ground.  It most give me the fan-tods. He had a blanket around his head, and his head was nearly in the fire.  I set there behind a clump of bushes, in about six foot of him, and kept my eyes on him steady.  It was getting gray daylight now.  Pretty soon he gapped and stretched himself and hove off the blanket, and it was Miss Watson's Jim!  I bet I was glad to see him.