'Nother story. Picture a tall skinny redheaded guy in the woods packing a flintlock rifle with a barrel so long it crosses time zones. He is dressed in 1770's period clothes: Claret wine red knee breeches with kelly green kneestockings over buckle shoes, a billiant white shirt with lace and ruffles at the neck and wrists, red silk neck cloth closing the shirt, and a kelly green wool weskit (vest) with thirteen ship-shape-and-Bristol-fashion shiny brass buttons down the front of the weskit, and a black tricorn hat with snow white cockade and piping around the edge of the brim.
At this lad's side is a long haired red dog sitting "at heel", they are right next to a pine tree on a forest fire trail, no more than 10 ft from the edge of the trail. Along comes a U.S. Forest Service employee walking and making observations. He stops from time to time to make notes on a clipboard. The redhaired lad smiles and makes eye contact with the Forest Circus biologist who fails to acknowledge the funnily dressed traveler. About this time the dog breaks command and runs up to the biologist and puts her cold nose in his hand, proceeding to launch him something like what Cape Canaveral does. When the feller lands, he finally spots me next to the tree and shouts, "Don't sneak up on people like that!!!"
Per wood and sailordad, stay in the shadows, move little. When you stop, stand next to something to break up your outline. (Indian fighters in Kaintuck called it "treein' up".)
