their hearts; and for one brief second I caught the retiring eye of the cook as we parted.
Returning to the river rejoiced us; it was like coming back to an old friend,—a renewal of fealty. And it was well for us that we had some compunction to work off, for a viler ten miles than that before us I have never seen,—not even excepting the upper end of the Charles River.
First of all, the water was like milk-and-water in color, and it was limy to the taste. There was a new sort of rock in the bottom, long ledges of slate that crossed the river like bars, upon every one of which we stuck. We never dreamt of dressing: jerseys and shoes were enough. We were wading half the time. At last we came to an island, and we parted company. Smith going to the right, and I to the left, close under the mountain. The river was more than half a mile wide; and the island turned out to be many miles long. It was a dismal experience, going alone, and each wondering how the other was getting on. For five miles I had not an unbroken run of fifty yards. The side of the hill had evidently fallen into the river, and crumbled into pieces from the size of a foot-ball to the size of a cab. The sluice-ways between some of these were fierce and swift, but irritatingly short.
When I was about half-way down I began to
