of the speeding water. D'ri said they had broken the raft into
three parts, ours being hindmost. The roaring grew louder, until
my shout was as a whisper in a hurricane. The logs began to heave
and fall, and waves came rushing through them. Sheets of spray
shot skyward, coming down like a shower. We were shaken as by an
earthquake in the rough water. Then the roar fell back of us, and
the raft grew steady.

"Gin us a tough twist," said D'ri, shouting down at me--"kind uv a
twist o' the bit 'n' a kick 'n the side."

It was coming daylight as we sailed into still water, and then D'ri
put his hands to his mouth and hailed loudly, getting an answer out
of the gloom ahead.

"Gol-dum ef it hain't the power uv a thousan' painters!" D'ri
continued, laughing as he spoke. "Never see nothin' jump 'n' kick
'n' spit like thet air, 'less it hed fur on--never 'n all my born
days."

D'ri's sober face showed dimly now in the dawn. His hands were on
his hips; his faded felt hat was tipped sideways. His boots and
trousers were quarrelling over that disputed territory between his
knees and ankles. His boots had checked the invasion.

"Smooth water now," said he, thoughtfully, "Seems terrible still.
Hain't a breath uv air stirrin'. Jerushy Jane Pepper! Wha' does
thet mean?"

He stepped aside quickly as some bits of bark and a small bough of