You had to sit up straight like a little tin soldier to keep it from tipping--it was one tippicanoe, you can bet.

I fell out and had to roll it over and bail it out two or three times.

At last I got the hang of it and I pushed it in the marshes a little way so it wouldn't drift up stream.
There was a regular creek there now, good and wide and deep, and the water was coming up like a parade.
Then I pulled a lot of reeds and bound them together with swamp grass.
That was a funny kind of a paddle I guess, but it was better than nothing and anyway I decided to wait till the tide was at flood and then paddle back with it.

That would be a cinch.
So then I sat in the dug-out and just waited for the tide to come up.
The dug-out stayed where it was on account of being pushed in among the reeds and oh, jiminety, it was nice sitting there.

I thought maybe the creek would empty out again into Bridgeboro River and I could tie up there and, go home.