It was after midnight, the air was still, and it was a very dark moonless night. Cousin Lyle was the first to hear the grass rustling as the bear approached our tent. With whispers and big eyes, we quietly slid a little deeper into our sleeping bags thankful we had zippered the tent entrance closed. It just felt safer. We could hear the bear breathing and occasionally a low rumbling sound as it padded through our campsite. I was scared and quietly praying.