"You an' I, Long, was the only ones that seen Pretty Quick go, wa'n't we?"
continued Old Kennebec, glancing at Long Abe Dennett (cousin to Short Abe),
who lay on his back in the grass, the smoke-wreaths rising from his pipe, and
the steel spikes in his heavy, calked-sole boots shining in the sun.

"There was folks on the bridge," Long answered, "but we was the only ones near
enough to see an' hear. It was so onexpected, an' so soon over, that them as
was watchin' upstream, where the men was to work on the falls, would n't 'a'
hed time to see him go down. But I did, an' nobody ain't heard me swear sence,
though it's ten years ago. I allers said it was rum an' bravadder that killed
Pretty Quick Waterman that day. The boys hed n't give him a 'dare' that he hed
n't took up. He seemed like he was possessed, an' the logs was the same way;
they was fairly wild, leapin' around in the maddest kind o' water you ever
see. The river was b'ilin' high that spring; it was an awful stubborn jam, an'
Pretty Quick, he'd be'n workin' on it sence dinner."

"He clumb up the bank more'n once to have a pull at the bottle that was hid in
the bushes," interpolated Mr. Wiley. "Like as not; that was his failin'. Well,
most o' the boys were on the other side o' the river, workin' above the
bridge, an' the boss hed called Pretty Quick to come off an' leave the jam
till mornin', when they'd get horses an' dog-warp it off, log by log. But when
the boss got out o' sight, Pretty Quick jest stood right still, swingin' his
axe, an' blasphemin' so it would freeze your blood, vowin' he would n't move
till the logs did, if he stayed there till the crack o' doom. Jest then a
great, ponderous log, that hed be'n churnin' up an' down in the falls for a
week, got free an' come blunderin' an' thunderin' down-river. Land! it was
chock full o' water, an' looked 'bout as big as a church! It come straight
along, butt-end foremost, an' struck that jam, full force, so 't every log in
it shivered. There was a crack,- the crack o' doom, sure enough, for Pretty