Anyway, I sat on it and tightened my legs around it just like a fellow does with a balky horse, and then I began jouncing up and down like on a seesaw.
Pretty soon the other end came up and, oh, boy, didn't I get dumped off into the water.

It looked like a slimy old log floating.

I gave it a turn and then--g--o--o--d night--what do you think it was?
It was a regular Indian dug-out.
I guess maybe it was a hundred years old and you can see it now, if you ever come to Bridgeboro, because it's in the Museum of our Public Library and you'll know it because it's got "Presented by 1st Bridgeboro Troop, B.S.

A.," on it.

I guess maybe it was about fifteen feet long and as soon as I cut into it with my scout knife, I saw that it was made of cedar and it wasn't rotten--not so much, anyway.
Jiminies, that's one good thing about cedar; it lasts forever under water.
Oh, boy, wasn't I excited.