He found, also, that it would have been just as well if he had not brought Old Bruden with him, for he saw nothing at all at which he cared to take a shot. There were no birds of any value, and although a rabbit occasionally jumped from its cover and went skipping away into the bushes, this was not the season to shoot rabbits.
Besides being entirely useless, Old Bruden was a real inconvenience to him, for it was necessary, in order to push his way into the heart of the woods, for him to cross wide expanses of swamp-lands, from which the place derived its name. He frequently had to make his way from one tussock of weeds and grass to another, and as the distance between these tussocks was sometimes four or five feet, and the intervening ground very wet and soft, he found that in making his long steps and jumps a heavy gun was very much in his way. But he had it with him, and there was nothing to do but to carry it along as well as he could.
After a time, he reached a stream of water, some eight or ten feet wide, which seemed to bar his way entirely. Had it been an ordinary stream, he might have waded across, but in a swampy place like this he did not know but he might sink up to his waist if he stepped into this apparently shallow piece of water; and to stick fast in the middle of this lonely wood did not at all suit his fancy. He sat down on a little piece of dry ground and ate his lunch, and then he determined to find, if possible, some place where he could cross this brook.
The ground beyond seemed somewhat higher and drier, as if it were drained by this running stream. The bank on his side, too, afforded better walking than the swamp-land he had recently crossed.
He therefore pushed his way up the stream, hoping that he would come to a place where the banks would be near enough together and firm enough for him to jump across; but, though he walked a long distance, the stream did not seem to narrow.
At last he reached a place where the bushes grew quite thickly on either side, although he found little difficulty in pushing his way along.
Soon, to his great delight, he came to the trunk of a large tree that had fallen diagonally across the stream. It was not a very easy thing to walk on this log, but Mr. Muller stepped boldly on it, and using the gun as a balancing-pole, he got over without a slip. On the other side he found, as he had expected, good walking, with very little underbrush among the trees. Guiding himself by means of a pocket-compass toward what he supposed must be the centre of the wood, he trudged gayly onward.
Before long, he came to a space which was covered by low evergreens, and, above these, he could see at a distance a little knoll or hill. On the top of this knoll, the near side of which seemed rocky and almost bare of trees, there grew a tall bush, or little tree, on which he could here and there see a red leaf glowing in the sunshine. A short distance behind this bush the forest seemed to rise again, thick and shady.
“It is early for leaves to turn red,” said Mr. Muller to himself. “That must be a sumach-bush,” and he walked toward it.
Just as he reached the bottom of the little hill, he heard a stir in the tufted grass.