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away -- trading scows, and such things; and long black streaks -- rafts; some-

times you could hear a sweep screaking; or jumbled up voices, it was so still,

and sounds come so far; and by-and-by you could see a streak on the water

which you know by the look of the streak that there's a snag there in a swift

current which breaks on it and makes that streak look that way; and you see

the mist curl up off of the water, and the east reddens up, and the river, and you

make out a log cabin in the edge of the woods, away on the bank on t'other side

of the river, being a wood-yard, likely, and piled by them cheats so you can

throw a dog through it anywheres; then the nice breeze springs up, and comes

fanning you from over there, so cool and fresh, and sweet to smell, on account of

the woods and the flowers; but sometimes not that way, because they've left

dead fish laying around, gars, and such, and they do get pretty rank; and next

you've got the full day, and everything smiling in the sun, and the song-birds

just going it! ssssssssss

A little smoke couldn't be noticed, now, so we would take some fish off of the

lines, and cook up a hot breakfast. And afterwards we would watch the lone-

someness of the river, and kind of lazy along, and by-and-by lazy off to sleep.

Wake up, by-and-by, and look to see what done it, and maybe see a steamboat,

coughing along up stream, so far off towards the other side you couldn't tell

nothing about her only whether she was stern-wheel or side-wheel; then for about

an hour there wouldn't be nothing to hear nor nothing to see -- just solid lonesome-

ness. Next you'd see a raft sliding by, away off yonder, and maybe a galoot on it

chopping, because they're most always doing it on a raft; you'd see the ax flash, and

come down -- you don't hear nothing; you see that ax go up again, and by the time

it's above the man's head, then you hear the k'chunk! -- it had took all that time

to come over the water. So we would put in the day, lazying around, listening

to the stillness. Once there was a thick fog, and the rafts and things that went

by was beating tin pans so the steamboats wouldn't run over them. A scow or a

raft went by so close we could hear them talking and cussing and laughing-

heard them plain; but we couldn't see no sign of them; it made you feel crawly,

it was like spirits carrying on that way in the air. Jim said he believed it was

spirits; but I says: ssssssssss

ssssssssss

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