I guess maybe it was a hundred years old and you can see it now, if you
ever come to Bridgeboro, because it's in the Museum of our Public
Library and you'll know it because it's got "Presented by 1st
Bridgeboro Troop, B. S. A.," on it. I guess maybe it was about fifteen
feet long and as soon as I cut into it with my scout knife, I saw that
it was made of cedar and it wasn't rotten--not so much, anyway.
Jiminies, that's one good thing about cedar; it lasts forever under
water.

Oh, boy, wasn't I excited. I swam around it washing it off with my
scout jacket, then I bailed the little dug out part out with my scout
hat. It wasn't so black when I got it all cleaned off. It was kind of
chocolate color and I knew it must be very old, because cedar turns
that color after a long time. You learn that in Woodcraft. It was all
made out of one piece and the place where you sit was just hollowed
out--about big enough for one person.

Then I got inside and it was crankier than a racing shell. You had to
sit up straight like a little tin soldier to keep it from tipping--it
was one tippicanoe, you can bet. I fell out and had to roll it over
and bail it out two or three times. At last I got the hang of it and
I pushed it in the marshes a little way so it wouldn't drift up stream.
There was a regular creek there now, good and wide and deep, and the
water was coming up like a parade.

Then I pulled a lot of reeds and bound them together with swamp grass.
That was a funny kind of a paddle I guess, but it was better than
nothing and anyway I decided to wait till the tide was at flood and
then paddle back with it. That would be a cinch.