be five or six miles long and more than half a mile wide. I kept quiet, with my ears cocked, about fifteen minutes, I reckon.  I was floating along, of course, four or five miles an hour; but you don't ever think of that.  No, you _feel_ like you are laying dead still on the water; and if a little glimpse of a snag slips by you don't think to yourself how fast _you're_ going, but you catch your breath and think, my! how that snag's tearing along.  If you think it ain't dismal and lonesome out in a fog that way by yourself in the night, you try it once--you'll see. Next, for about a half an hour, I whoops now and then; at last I hears the answer a long ways off, and tries to follow it, but I couldn't do it, and directly I judged I'd got into a nest of towheads, for I had little dim glimpses of them on both sides of me--sometimes just a narrow channel between, and some that I couldn't see I knowed was there because I'd hear the wash of the current against the old dead brush and trash that hung over the banks.  Well, I warn't long loosing the whoops down amongst the towheads; and I only tried to chase them a little while, anyway, because it was worse than chasing a Jack-o'-lantern.  You never knowed a sound dodge around so, and swap places so quick and so much. I had to claw away from the bank pretty lively four or five times, to keep from knocking the islands out of the river; and so I judged the raft must be butting into the bank every now and then, or else it would get further ahead and clear out of hearing--it was floating a little faster than what I was. Well, I seemed to be in the open river again by and by, but I couldn't hear no sign of a whoop nowheres.  I reckoned Jim had fetched up on a snag, maybe, and it was all up with him.  I was good and tired, so I laid down in the canoe and said I wouldn't bother no more.  I didn't want to go to sleep, of course; but I was so sleepy I couldn't help it; so I thought I would take jest one little cat-nap. But I rec