Auntie Sue's little log house by the river was placed some five
hundred yards back from the stream, on a bench of land at the foot
of Schoolhouse Hill. From this bench, the ground slopes gently to the
river-bank, which, at this point, is sheer and high enough to be well
above the water at flood periods. The road, winding down the hill,
turns to the right at the foot of the steep grade, and leads away up the
river; and between the road and the river, on the up-stream side of the
house, was the garden.

At the lower corner of the garden, farthest from the house, the strong
current had cut a deep inward curve in the high shore-line, forming thus
an eddy, which was margined on one side, at a normal stage of water, by
a narrow shelf of land between the water's edge and the foot of the
main bank. A flight of rude steps led down from the garden above to this
natural landing, which, for three miles up and down the river, was
the only point, on Auntie Sue's side of the stream, where one could go
ashore from a skiff.

From the porch of the house, one, facing up the river, looked over the
gently sloping garden, over the eddy lying under the high bank, and away
over a beautiful reach of water known as The Bend,--a wide, sweeping
curve which, a mile distant, is lost behind a wooded bluff where, at
times, during the vacation or hunting season, one might see the smoke
from the stone chimney of a clubhouse which was built and used by people
who lived in the big, noisy city many miles from the peaceful Ozark
scene. From the shore of The Bend, opposite and above Auntie Sue's
place, beyond the willows that fringe the water's edge, the low
bottom-lands extend back three-quarters of a mile to the foot of a