Corry loaded his gun again, and on they went; but pretty soon he remarked,—
"We're in the swamp now, Port."
"I don't see any swamp: it's all trees and bushes and snow."
"That's so, but there's ice under the snow in some places. You can't get through here at all in the spring, and hardly in summer. It's a great place for rabbits."
Ponto was doubtless aware of that fact, for he was dashing to and fro most industriously.
There were plenty of little tracks on the snow, as the boys could now plainly see; but they crossed each other in all directions, after a manner that puzzled Porter Hudson exceedingly.
"How will he find out which one of them he'd better follow up?"
"Wait, Port: you'll see."
Porter was taking his first lesson as a sportsman, and was peering anxiously behind trees and in among the nearest bushes. Suddenly he saw something, or thought he saw it, which made him hold his breath and tremblingly lift his gun.
"Can that be a real rabbit," he thought, "sitting there so still?"