getting all ready to quit rafting. That night about ten we hove in sight of the lights of a town away down in a left-hand bend. I went off in the canoe to ask about it.  Pretty soon I found a man out in the river with a skiff, setting a trot-line.  I ranged up and says: “Mister, is that town Cairo?” “Cairo? no.  You must be a blame' fool.” “What town is it, mister?” “If you want to know, go and find out.  If you stay here botherin' around me for about a half a minute longer you'll get something you won't want.” I paddled to the raft.  Jim was awful disappointed, but I said never mind, Cairo would be the next place, I reckoned. We passed another town before daylight, and I was going out again; but it was high ground, so I didn't go.  No high ground about Cairo, Jim said. I had forgot it.  We laid up for the day on a towhead tolerable close to the left-hand bank.  I begun to suspicion something.  So did Jim.  I says: “Maybe we went by Cairo in the fog that night.” He says: “Doan' le's talk about it, Huck.  Po' niggers can't have no luck.  I awluz 'spected dat rattlesnake-skin warn't done wid its work.” “I wish I'd never seen that snake-skin, Jim--I do wish I'd never laid eyes on it.” “It ain't yo' fault, Huck; you didn' know.  Don't you blame yo'self 'bout it.” When it was daylight, here was the clear Ohio water inshore, sure enough, and outside was the old regular Muddy!  So it was all up with Cairo. We talked it all over.  It wouldn't do to take to the shore; we couldn't take the raft up the stream, of course.  There warn't no way but to wait for dark, and start back in the canoe and take the chances.  So we slept all day amongst the cottonwood thicket, so as to be fresh for the work, and when we went back to the raft about dark the canoe was gone! We didn't say a word for a good while.  There warn't anything to say.  We both knowed well enough it was some more work of the rattlesnake-skin; so what was the use to talk about it?  It would only look l