brush-heap

Hiding the camera in a convenient brush-heap, he made sure all was quiet, and again stole forth.

The Young Railroaders Tales of Adventure and Ingenuity Francis Lovell Coombs

He drove to the top of the hill, and looking beyond, in expectation of seeing his house wrapped in flames, discovered that the smoke proceeded from a brush-heap which his neighbor Atkins was burning in a field near by.

The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 16, No. 96, October 1865 Various

Cautiously he extricated himself from the brush-heap, his heart pounding wildly at the snapping of each dry twig.

The Promise A Tale of the Great Northwest 1921

He delayed burning the brush-heap from the spring pruning, back of the orchard, until fall, when he found it housed a pair of fine thrushes; for the song of the thrush delighted him almost as much as that of the lark.

The Song of the Cardinal 1915

There was no use in trying to go through this canyon; the trail had faded out, and we were about to oblique off up the hill on our side of the creek, to go around and strike the creek above the canyon, when Kit Carson saw something caught on a brush-heap half in the water, at the mouth of the canyon.

Pluck on the Long Trail Boy Scouts in the Rockies 1911

Repeatedly, with the acute, unsatisfied gaze of the borderman who knew that every tree, every patch of ferns, every tangled brush-heap might harbor a foe, he searched the grove with his eyes; but the curly-barked birches, the clumps of colored ferns, the bushy windfalls kept their secrets.

The Last Trail Zane Grey 1905

In two minutes under the brush-heap Nature had performed one of her miracles of education.

Nomads of the North James Oliver Curwood 1903

Then she brought out the iron rake from the barn and settled the brush-heap anew.

Country Neighbors Alice Brown 1902

Her eyes were of the lagoon blue found in picture postcards of Venice and her hair was a curly yellow brush-heap.

Ptomaine Street Carolyn Wells 1902

But Quarrier coldly drove him away and the increasing crowds besieging poor, bewildered old Peter Caithness trod upon the major, and there was nothing for him to do but to scuttle back to his own brush-heap and huddle there, squeaking pitifully.

The Fighting Chance 1899