On coming out from his tent, however, he found matters much worse than he had thought.

In whatever direction he looked he could see nothing but water, and he knew what the trouble was.
The rain had been very heavy all along the creek, and the stream having very little fall had spread out over the whole surface of the swamp.
There was nothing to do except wait for daylight, and he climbed upon the trunk of the fallen tree to get out of the water while he waited.
The rain had ceased to fall, and he had therefore no reason to fear any great increase in the depth of the surrounding water.
When morning came, Sam found that he was not the only occupant of the fallen tree.

A fine large opossum had taken refuge in one of the upper branches, and Sam used his rifle to good purpose in bringing him down.
He was still suffering somewhat from the fever, though the excitement of his recent ride had done much to relieve him, as anything which occupies one's mind is apt to do in fevers of that sort, but he was nevertheless extremely hungry, not having tasted food of any kind for nearly two days, and having previously lived for a long time, as we know, upon an insufficient and not very wholesome diet.

He was delighted therefore to get a fat young opossum for breakfast.

The next thing was to cook it.
Sam was in no danger here from Indians, who were not likely to be in such a swamp at any time, and were certainly not then, when the swamp was full of water.