The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn - 06

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Well, it being away in the night and stormy, and all so mysterious-like, I
felt just the way any other boy would a felt when I see that wreck laying
there so mournful and lonesome in the middle of the river. I wanted
to get aboard of her and slink around a little, and see what there was
there. So I says:

“Le’s land on her, Jim.”

But Jim was dead against it at first. He says:

“I doan’ want to go fool’n ’long er no wrack.
We’s doin’ blame’ well, en we better let blame’
well alone, as de good book says. Like as not dey’s a watchman
on dat wrack.”

“Watchman your grandmother,” I says; “there ain’t
nothing to watch but the texas and the pilot-house; and do you reckon
anybody’s going to resk his life for a texas and a pilot-house such
a night as this, when it’s likely to break up and wash off down the
river any minute?” Jim couldn’t say nothing to that, so
he didn’t try. "And besides,” I says, “we might
borrow something worth having out of the captain’s stateroom. Seegars,
I bet you—and cost five cents apiece, solid cash. Steamboat
captains is always rich, and get sixty dollars a month, and they
don’t care a cent what a thing costs, you know, long as they want
it. Stick a candle in your pocket; I can’t rest, Jim, till we
give her a rummaging. Do you reckon Tom Sawyer would ever go by this
thing? Not for pie, he wouldn’t. He’d call it an
adventure—that’s what he’d call it; and he’d land
on that wreck if it was his last act. And wouldn’t he throw
style into it?—wouldn’t he spread himself, nor nothing? Why,
you’d think it was Christopher C’lumbus discovering
Kingdom-Come. I wish Tom Sawyer was here.”

Jim he grumbled a little, but give in. He said we mustn’t talk
any more than we could help, and then talk mighty low. The lightning
showed us the wreck again just in time, and we fetched the stabboard
derrick, and made fast there.

The deck was high out here. We went sneaking down the slope of it to
labboard, in the dark, towards the texas, feeling our way slow with our
feet, and spreading our hands out to fend off the guys, for it was so dark
we couldn’t see no sign of them. Pretty soon we struck the
forward end of the skylight, and clumb on to it; and the next step fetched
us in front of the captain’s door, which was open, and by Jimminy,
away down through the texas-hall we see a light! and all in the same
second we seem to hear low voices in yonder!

Jim whispered and said he was feeling powerful sick, and told me to come
along. I says, all right, and was going to start for the raft; but
just then I heard a voice wail out and say:

“Oh, please don’t, boys; I swear I won’t ever tell!”

Another voice said, pretty loud:

“It’s a lie, Jim Turner. You’ve acted this way
before. You always want more’n your share of the truck, and
you’ve always got it, too, because you’ve swore ’t if
you didn’t you’d tell. But this time you’ve said
it jest one time too many. You’re the meanest, treacherousest
hound in this country.”

By this time Jim was gone for the raft. I was just a-biling with
curiosity; and I says to myself, Tom Sawyer wouldn’t back out now,
and so I won’t either; I’m a-going to see what’s going
on here. So I dropped on my hands and knees in the little passage,
and crept aft in the dark till there warn’t but one stateroom
betwixt me and the cross-hall of the texas. Then in there I see a
man stretched on the floor and tied hand and foot, and two men standing
over him, and one of them had a dim lantern in his hand, and the other one
had a pistol. This one kept pointing the pistol at the man’s
head on the floor, and saying:

“I’d like to! And I orter, too—a mean
skunk!”

The man on the floor would shrivel up and say, “Oh, please don’t,
Bill; I hain’t ever goin’ to tell.”

And every time he said that the man with the lantern would laugh and say:

“’Deed you ain’t! You never said no truer
thing ’n that, you bet you.” And once he said: "Hear him
beg! and yit if we hadn’t got the best of him and tied him he’d
a killed us both. And what for? Jist for noth’n.
Jist because we stood on our rights—that’s what for.
But I lay you ain’t a-goin’ to threaten nobody any more,
Jim Turner. Put up that pistol, Bill.”

Bill says:

“I don’t want to, Jake Packard. I’m for killin’
him—and didn’t he kill old Hatfield jist the same way—and
don’t he deserve it?”

“But I don’t want him killed, and I’ve got my
reasons for it.”

“Bless yo’ heart for them words, Jake Packard! I’ll
never forgit you long’s I live!” says the man on the floor,
sort of blubbering.

Packard didn’t take no notice of that, but hung up his lantern on a
nail and started towards where I was there in the dark, and motioned Bill
to come. I crawfished as fast as I could about two yards, but the
boat slanted so that I couldn’t make very good time; so to keep from
getting run over and catched I crawled into a stateroom on the upper side.
The man came a-pawing along in the dark, and when Packard got to my
stateroom, he says:

“Here—come in here.”

And in he come, and Bill after him. But before they got in I was up
in the upper berth, cornered, and sorry I come. Then they stood
there, with their hands on the ledge of the berth, and talked. I
couldn’t see them, but I could tell where they was by the whisky
they’d been having. I was glad I didn’t drink whisky;
but it wouldn’t made much difference anyway, because most of the
time they couldn’t a treed me because I didn’t breathe. I
was too scared. And, besides, a body couldn’t breathe
and hear such talk. They talked low and earnest. Bill wanted
to kill Turner. He says:

“He’s said he’ll tell, and he will. If we was to
give both our shares to him now it wouldn’t make no
difference after the row and the way we’ve served him. Shore’s
you’re born, he’ll turn State’s evidence; now you hear
me. I’m for putting him out of his troubles.”

“So’m I,” says Packard, very quiet.

“Blame it, I’d sorter begun to think you wasn’t. Well,
then, that’s all right. Le’s go and do it.”

“Hold on a minute; I hain’t had my say yit. You listen
to me. Shooting’s good, but there’s quieter ways if the thing’s
got to be done. But what I say is this: it ain’t good
sense to go court’n around after a halter if you can git at what you’re
up to in some way that’s jist as good and at the same time don’t
bring you into no resks. Ain’t that so?”

“You bet it is. But how you goin’ to manage it this
time?”

“Well, my idea is this: we’ll rustle around and gather
up whatever pickins we’ve overlooked in the staterooms, and shove
for shore and hide the truck. Then we’ll wait. Now I say it
ain’t a-goin’ to be more’n two hours befo’ this
wrack breaks up and washes off down the river. See? He’ll be
drownded, and won’t have nobody to blame for it but his own self.
I reckon that’s a considerble sight better ’n killin’
of him. I’m unfavorable to killin’ a man as long as you
can git aroun’ it; it ain’t good sense, it ain’t good
morals. Ain’t I right?”

“Yes, I reck’n you are. But s’pose she don’t
break up and wash off?”

“Well, we can wait the two hours anyway and see, can’t we?”

“All right, then; come along.”

So they started, and I lit out, all in a cold sweat, and scrambled
forward. It was dark as pitch there; but I said, in a kind of a coarse
whisper, “Jim!” and he answered up, right at my elbow, with a
sort of a moan, and I says:

“Quick, Jim, it ain’t no time for fooling around and moaning;
there’s a gang of murderers in yonder, and if we don’t hunt up
their boat and set her drifting down the river so these fellows can’t
get away from the wreck there’s one of ’em going to be in a
bad fix. But if we find their boat we can put all of ’em
in a bad fix—for the sheriff ’ll get ’em. Quick—hurry!
I’ll hunt the labboard side, you hunt the stabboard. You start
at the raft, and—”

“Oh, my lordy, lordy! raf’’? Dey ain’
no raf’ no mo’; she done broke loose en gone I—en here
we is!”




CHAPTER XIII.

WELL, I catched my breath and most fainted. Shut up on a wreck with
such a gang as that! But it warn’t no time to be
sentimentering. We’d got to find that boat now—had
to have it for ourselves. So we went a-quaking and shaking down the
stabboard side, and slow work it was, too—seemed a week before we
got to the stern. No sign of a boat. Jim said he didn’t
believe he could go any further—so scared he hadn’t hardly any
strength left, he said. But I said, come on, if we get left on this
wreck we are in a fix, sure. So on we prowled again. We struck
for the stern of the texas, and found it, and then scrabbled along
forwards on the skylight, hanging on from shutter to shutter, for the edge
of the skylight was in the water. When we got pretty close to the
cross-hall door there was the skiff, sure enough! I could just
barely see her. I felt ever so thankful. In another second I
would a been aboard of her, but just then the door opened. One of
the men stuck his head out only about a couple of foot from me, and I
thought I was gone; but he jerked it in again, and says:

“Heave that blame lantern out o’ sight, Bill!”

He flung a bag of something into the boat, and then got in himself and set
down. It was Packard. Then Bill he come out and got in.
Packard says, in a low voice:

“All ready—shove off!”

I couldn’t hardly hang on to the shutters, I was so weak. But
Bill says:

“Hold on—’d you go through him?”

“No. Didn’t you?”

“No. So he’s got his share o’ the cash yet.”

“Well, then, come along; no use to take truck and leave money.”

“Say, won’t he suspicion what we’re up to?”

“Maybe he won’t. But we got to have it anyway. Come
along.”

So they got out and went in.

The door slammed to because it was on the careened side; and in a half
second I was in the boat, and Jim come tumbling after me. I out with
my knife and cut the rope, and away we went!

We didn’t touch an oar, and we didn’t speak nor whisper, nor
hardly even breathe. We went gliding swift along, dead silent, past
the tip of the paddle-box, and past the stern; then in a second or two
more we was a hundred yards below the wreck, and the darkness soaked her
up, every last sign of her, and we was safe, and knowed it.

When we was three or four hundred yards down-stream we see the lantern
show like a little spark at the texas door for a second, and we knowed by
that that the rascals had missed their boat, and was beginning to
understand that they was in just as much trouble now as Jim Turner was.

Then Jim manned the oars, and we took out after our raft. Now was
the first time that I begun to worry about the men—I reckon I hadn’t
had time to before. I begun to think how dreadful it was, even for
murderers, to be in such a fix. I says to myself, there ain’t
no telling but I might come to be a murderer myself yet, and then how
would I like it? So says I to Jim:

“The first light we see we’ll land a hundred yards below it or
above it, in a place where it’s a good hiding-place for you and the
skiff, and then I’ll go and fix up some kind of a yarn, and get
somebody to go for that gang and get them out of their scrape, so they can
be hung when their time comes.”

But that idea was a failure; for pretty soon it begun to storm again, and
this time worse than ever. The rain poured down, and never a light
showed; everybody in bed, I reckon. We boomed along down the river,
watching for lights and watching for our raft. After a long time the
rain let up, but the clouds stayed, and the lightning kept whimpering, and
by and by a flash showed us a black thing ahead, floating, and we made for
it.

It was the raft, and mighty glad was we to get aboard of it again. We
seen a light now away down to the right, on shore. So I said I would
go for it. The skiff was half full of plunder which that gang had stole
there on the wreck. We hustled it on to the raft in a pile, and I
told Jim to float along down, and show a light when he judged he had gone
about two mile, and keep it burning till I come; then I manned my oars and
shoved for the light. As I got down towards it three or four more
showed—up on a hillside. It was a village. I closed in
above the shore light, and laid on my oars and floated. As I went by
I see it was a lantern hanging on the jackstaff of a double-hull
ferryboat. I skimmed around for the watchman, a-wondering
whereabouts he slept; and by and by I found him roosting on the bitts
forward, with his head down between his knees. I gave his shoulder
two or three little shoves, and begun to cry.

He stirred up in a kind of a startlish way; but when he see it was only me
he took a good gap and stretch, and then he says:

“Hello, what’s up? Don’t cry, bub. What’s
the trouble?”

I says:

“Pap, and mam, and sis, and—”

Then I broke down. He says:

“Oh, dang it now, don’t take on so; we all has to have
our troubles, and this ’n ’ll come out all right. What’s
the matter with ’em?”

“They’re—they’re—are you the watchman of the
boat?”

“Yes,” he says, kind of pretty-well-satisfied like. "I’m
the captain and the owner and the mate and the pilot and watchman and head
deck-hand; and sometimes I’m the freight and passengers. I ain’t
as rich as old Jim Hornback, and I can’t be so blame’ generous
and good to Tom, Dick, and Harry as what he is, and slam around money the
way he does; but I’ve told him a many a time ’t I wouldn’t
trade places with him; for, says I, a sailor’s life’s the life
for me, and I’m derned if I’d live two mile out o’
town, where there ain’t nothing ever goin’ on, not for all his
spondulicks and as much more on top of it. Says I—”

I broke in and says:

“They’re in an awful peck of trouble, and—”

Who is?”

“Why, pap and mam and sis and Miss Hooker; and if you’d take
your ferryboat and go up there—”

“Up where? Where are they?”

“On the wreck.”

“What wreck?”

“Why, there ain’t but one.”

“What, you don’t mean the Walter Scott?”

“Yes.”

“Good land! what are they doin’ there, for gracious
sakes?”

“Well, they didn’t go there a-purpose.”

“I bet they didn’t! Why, great goodness, there ain’t
no chance for ’em if they don’t git off mighty quick! Why,
how in the nation did they ever git into such a scrape?”

“Easy enough. Miss Hooker was a-visiting up there to the town—”

“Yes, Booth’s Landing—go on.”

“She was a-visiting there at Booth’s Landing, and just in the
edge of the evening she started over with her nigger woman in the
horse-ferry to stay all night at her friend’s house, Miss
What-you-may-call-her I disremember her name—and they lost their
steering-oar, and swung around and went a-floating down, stern first,
about two mile, and saddle-baggsed on the wreck, and the ferryman and the
nigger woman and the horses was all lost, but Miss Hooker she made a grab
and got aboard the wreck. Well, about an hour after dark we come
along down in our trading-scow, and it was so dark we didn’t notice
the wreck till we was right on it; and so we saddle-baggsed; but
all of us was saved but Bill Whipple—and oh, he was the best
cretur!—I most wish ’t it had been me, I do.”

“My George! It’s the beatenest thing I ever struck.
And then what did you all do?”

“Well, we hollered and took on, but it’s so wide there we
couldn’t make nobody hear. So pap said somebody got to get
ashore and get help somehow. I was the only one that could swim, so I made
a dash for it, and Miss Hooker she said if I didn’t strike help
sooner, come here and hunt up her uncle, and he’d fix the thing.
I made the land about a mile below, and been fooling along ever
since, trying to get people to do something, but they said, ’What,
in such a night and such a current? There ain’t no sense in it; go
for the steam ferry.’ Now if you’ll go and—”

“By Jackson, I’d like to, and, blame it, I don’t
know but I will; but who in the dingnation’s a-going’ to pay
for it? Do you reckon your pap—”

“Why that’s all right. Miss Hooker she tole me,
particular, that her uncle Hornback—”

“Great guns! is he her uncle? Looky here, you break for
that light over yonder-way, and turn out west when you git there, and
about a quarter of a mile out you’ll come to the tavern; tell
’em to dart you out to Jim Hornback’s, and he’ll foot
the bill. And don’t you fool around any, because he’ll
want to know the news. Tell him I’ll have his niece all safe
before he can get to town. Hump yourself, now; I’m a-going up
around the corner here to roust out my engineer.”

I struck for the light, but as soon as he turned the corner I went back
and got into my skiff and bailed her out, and then pulled up shore in the
easy water about six hundred yards, and tucked myself in among some
woodboats; for I couldn’t rest easy till I could see the ferryboat
start. But take it all around, I was feeling ruther comfortable on
accounts of taking all this trouble for that gang, for not many would a
done it. I wished the widow knowed about it. I judged she
would be proud of me for helping these rapscallions, because rapscallions
and dead beats is the kind the widow and good people takes the most
interest in.

Well, before long here comes the wreck, dim and dusky, sliding along down!
A kind of cold shiver went through me, and then I struck out for her.
She was very deep, and I see in a minute there warn’t much
chance for anybody being alive in her. I pulled all around her and
hollered a little, but there wasn’t any answer; all dead still.
I felt a little bit heavy-hearted about the gang, but not much, for
I reckoned if they could stand it I could.

Then here comes the ferryboat; so I shoved for the middle of the river on
a long down-stream slant; and when I judged I was out of eye-reach I laid
on my oars, and looked back and see her go and smell around the wreck for
Miss Hooker’s remainders, because the captain would know her uncle
Hornback would want them; and then pretty soon the ferryboat give it up
and went for the shore, and I laid into my work and went a-booming down
the river.

It did seem a powerful long time before Jim’s light showed up; and
when it did show it looked like it was a thousand mile off. By the
time I got there the sky was beginning to get a little gray in the east;
so we struck for an island, and hid the raft, and sunk the skiff, and
turned in and slept like dead people.




CHAPTER XIV.

BY and by, when we got up, we turned over the truck the gang had stole off
of the wreck, and found boots, and blankets, and clothes, and all sorts of
other things, and a lot of books, and a spyglass, and three boxes of
seegars. We hadn’t ever been this rich before in neither of
our lives. The seegars was prime. We laid off all the
afternoon in the woods talking, and me reading the books, and having a
general good time. I told Jim all about what happened inside the wreck and
at the ferryboat, and I said these kinds of things was adventures; but he
said he didn’t want no more adventures. He said that when I
went in the texas and he crawled back to get on the raft and found her
gone he nearly died, because he judged it was all up with him
anyway it could be fixed; for if he didn’t get saved he would get
drownded; and if he did get saved, whoever saved him would send him back
home so as to get the reward, and then Miss Watson would sell him South,
sure. Well, he was right; he was most always right; he had an
uncommon level head for a nigger.

I read considerable to Jim about kings and dukes and earls and such, and
how gaudy they dressed, and how much style they put on, and called each
other your majesty, and your grace, and your lordship, and so on, ’stead
of mister; and Jim’s eyes bugged out, and he was interested. He
says:

“I didn’ know dey was so many un um. I hain’t
hearn ’bout none un um, skasely, but ole King Sollermun, onless you
counts dem kings dat’s in a pack er k’yards. How much do
a king git?”

“Get?” I says; “why, they get a thousand dollars a
month if they want it; they can have just as much as they want; everything
belongs to them.”

Ain’’ dat gay? En what dey got to do, Huck?”

They don’t do nothing! Why, how you talk! They
just set around.”

“No; is dat so?”

“Of course it is. They just set around—except, maybe,
when there’s a war; then they go to the war. But other times
they just lazy around; or go hawking—just hawking and sp—Sh!—d’
you hear a noise?”

We skipped out and looked; but it warn’t nothing but the flutter of
a steamboat’s wheel away down, coming around the point; so we come
back.

“Yes,” says I, “and other times, when things is dull,
they fuss with the parlyment; and if everybody don’t go just so he
whacks their heads off. But mostly they hang round the harem.”

“Roun’ de which?”

“Harem.”

“What’s de harem?”

“The place where he keeps his wives. Don’t you know
about the harem? Solomon had one; he had about a million wives.”

“Why, yes, dat’s so; I—I’d done forgot it. A
harem’s a bo’d’n-house, I reck’n. Mos’
likely dey has rackety times in de nussery. En I reck’n de
wives quarrels considable; en dat ’crease de racket. Yit dey
say Sollermun de wises’ man dat ever live’. I doan’
take no stock in dat. Bekase why: would a wise man want to live in de mids’
er sich a blim-blammin’ all de time? No—’deed he
wouldn’t. A wise man ’ud take en buil’ a
biler-factry; en den he could shet down de biler-factry when he
want to res’.”

“Well, but he was the wisest man, anyway; because the widow
she told me so, her own self.”

“I doan k’yer what de widder say, he warn’t no
wise man nuther. He had some er de dad-fetchedes’ ways I ever
see. Does you know ’bout dat chile dat he ’uz gwyne to
chop in two?”

“Yes, the widow told me all about it.”

Well, den! Warn’ dat de beatenes’ notion
in de worl’? You jes’ take en look at it a minute.
Dah’s de stump, dah—dat’s one er de women; heah’s
you—dat’s de yuther one; I’s Sollermun; en dish yer
dollar bill’s de chile. Bofe un you claims it. What does
I do? Does I shin aroun’ mongs’ de neighbors en fine out
which un you de bill do b’long to, en han’ it over to
de right one, all safe en soun’, de way dat anybody dat had any
gumption would? No; I take en whack de bill in two, en give
half un it to you, en de yuther half to de yuther woman. Dat’s
de way Sollermun was gwyne to do wid de chile. Now I want to ast
you: what’s de use er dat half a bill?—can’t buy
noth’n wid it. En what use is a half a chile? I wouldn’
give a dern for a million un um.”

“But hang it, Jim, you’ve clean missed the point—blame
it, you’ve missed it a thousand mile.”

“Who? Me? Go ’long. Doan’ talk to me
’bout yo’ pints. I reck’n I knows sense when I
sees it; en dey ain’ no sense in sich doin’s as dat. De
’spute warn’t ’bout a half a chile, de ’spute was
’bout a whole chile; en de man dat think he kin settle a ’spute
’bout a whole chile wid a half a chile doan’ know enough to
come in out’n de rain. Doan’ talk to me ’bout
Sollermun, Huck, I knows him by de back.”

“But I tell you you don’t get the point.”

“Blame de point! I reck’n I knows what I knows. En
mine you, de real pint is down furder—it’s down deeper.
It lays in de way Sollermun was raised. You take a man dat’s
got on’y one or two chillen; is dat man gwyne to be waseful o’
chillen? No, he ain’t; he can’t ’ford it. He
know how to value ’em. But you take a man dat’s got
’bout five million chillen runnin’ roun’ de house, en it’s
diffunt. He as soon chop a chile in two as a cat. Dey’s
plenty mo’. A chile er two, mo’ er less, warn’t no
consekens to Sollermun, dad fatch him!”

I never see such a nigger. If he got a notion in his head once,
there warn’t no getting it out again. He was the most down on
Solomon of any nigger I ever see. So I went to talking about other
kings, and let Solomon slide. I told about Louis Sixteenth that got
his head cut off in France long time ago; and about his little boy the
dolphin, that would a been a king, but they took and shut him up in jail,
and some say he died there.

“Po’ little chap.”

“But some says he got out and got away, and come to America.”

“Dat’s good! But he’ll be pooty lonesome—dey
ain’ no kings here, is dey, Huck?”

“No.”

“Den he cain’t git no situation. What he gwyne to do?”

“Well, I don’t know. Some of them gets on the police,
and some of them learns people how to talk French.”

“Why, Huck, doan’ de French people talk de same way we does?”

No, Jim; you couldn’t understand a word they said—not
a single word.”

“Well, now, I be ding-busted! How do dat come?”

“I don’t know; but it’s so. I got some of their
jabber out of a book. S’pose a man was to come to you and say
Polly-voo-franzy—what would you think?”

“I wouldn’ think nuff’n; I’d take en bust him over
de head—dat is, if he warn’t white. I wouldn’t
’low no nigger to call me dat.”

“Shucks, it ain’t calling you anything. It’s only
saying, do you know how to talk French?”

“Well, den, why couldn’t he say it?”

“Why, he is a-saying it. That’s a Frenchman’s
way of saying it.”

“Well, it’s a blame ridicklous way, en I doan’ want to
hear no mo’ ’bout it. Dey ain’ no sense in it.”

“Looky here, Jim; does a cat talk like we do?”

“No, a cat don’t.”

“Well, does a cow?”

“No, a cow don’t, nuther.”

“Does a cat talk like a cow, or a cow talk like a cat?”

“No, dey don’t.”

“It’s natural and right for ’em to talk different from
each other, ain’t it?”

“Course.”

“And ain’t it natural and right for a cat and a cow to talk
different from us?”

“Why, mos’ sholy it is.”

“Well, then, why ain’t it natural and right for a Frenchman
to talk different from us? You answer me that.”

“Is a cat a man, Huck?”

“No.”

“Well, den, dey ain’t no sense in a cat talkin’ like a
man. Is a cow a man?—er is a cow a cat?”

“No, she ain’t either of them.”

“Well, den, she ain’t got no business to talk like either one
er the yuther of ’em. Is a Frenchman a man?”

“Yes.”

Well, den! Dad blame it, why doan’ he talk
like a man? You answer me dat!”

I see it warn’t no use wasting words—you can’t learn a
nigger to argue. So I quit.




CHAPTER XV.

WE judged that three nights more would fetch us to Cairo, at the bottom of
Illinois, where the Ohio River comes in, and that was what we was after.
We would sell the raft and get on a steamboat and go way up the Ohio
amongst the free States, and then be out of trouble.

Well, the second night a fog begun to come on, and we made for a towhead
to tie to, for it wouldn’t do to try to run in a fog; but when I
paddled ahead in the canoe, with the line to make fast, there warn’t
anything but little saplings to tie to. I passed the line around one
of them right on the edge of the cut bank, but there was a stiff current,
and the raft come booming down so lively she tore it out by the roots and
away she went. I see the fog closing down, and it made me so sick
and scared I couldn’t budge for most a half a minute it seemed to me—and
then there warn’t no raft in sight; you couldn’t see twenty
yards. I jumped into the canoe and run back to the stern, and
grabbed the paddle and set her back a stroke. But she didn’t
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