He would not go back empty-handed, if he struggled on until he dropped.
It was late in the afternoon before his search was rewarded.

He had reached a strip of slightly clearer ground when he heard a faint rustle, and he stiffened suddenly in strung-up attention.

There was, he remembered, a great hemlock close behind him, but he recognized that any movement might betray his presence, and, standing very still, he slowly swept his eyes across the glade.

A curious, hard glint crept into them when they rested on one spot where something that looked very much like a slender, forked branch rose above a thicket.

Then a small patch of slightly different color from the thicket appeared close beneath, and, though he knew that this might send the deer off, he sank slowly down until he could sit on his drawn-back right foot.
He could not be sure of the steadiness of his hands, and he wanted a support for the rifle.