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296 fear that Smith might be worse off; so I hauled toward the island and went ashore. Nowhere could I see him, nor get an answer to a bush "coo-ee!" So I walked back to the end of the island, only to find that he had had open river all the way down, and must, therefore, be miles ahead. An hour later I found him at the end of the island, on a mossy bank, under tall beeches,—a little bit from fairyland.

As we were about to get into our canoes, after several hours' rest here, we saw a strange sight. In the reflection under the boats great numbers of little fish had gathered, and ranged themselves in a line, evidently enjoying the only scrap of shadow on the wide river. As we ran down a grand reach of deep and swift water, below the village, we saw another strange thing—a tremendous iron pipe crossing the river in a lonely place, like a huge serpent half-buried in the mud, under eight feet of clear water. It was probably the pipe of one of the great oil lines. Ten miles farther down we came to another village; and as we shot a little rapid in its front a man ran down to the river waving a letter. It was addressed to me, "On the Susquehanna River in a Canoe." It was from the political committee at Wilkesbarre, which we had almost forgotten, telling us that we should have "an immense audience next