Chapter 19

           TWOorthreedaysandnightswentby;IreckonImightsaytheyswumby,theyslidalongsoquietandsmoothandlovely.Hereisthewayweputinthetime.Itwasamonstrousbigriverdownthere—sometimesamileandahalfwide;werunnights,andlaidupandhiddaytimes;soonasnightwasmostgonewestoppednavigatingandtiedup—nearlyalwaysinthedeadwaterunderatowhead;andthencutyoungcottonwoodsandwillows,andhidtheraftwiththem.Thenwesetoutthelines.Nextweslidintotheriverandhadaswim,soastofreshenupandcooloff;thenwesetdownonthesandybottomwherethewaterwasaboutkneedeep,andwatchedthedaylightcome.Notasoundanywheres—perfectlystill—justlikethewholeworldwasasleep,onlysometimesthebullfrogsa-cluttering,maybe.

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