We sailed by the hotel in the mellow glow of sunset, and came slashing down with the mad current into the narrow passage between the dikes.

I believed I could shoot the bridge myself, and I went to the forward triplet of logs and relieved the pilot of his pole and his responsibility.
1.

The seeker after information is referred to Appendix E for our captain's legend of the "Swallow's Nest" and "The Brothers." We went tearing along in a most exhilarating way, and I performed the delicate duties of my office very well indeed for a first attempt; but perceiving, presently, that I really was going to shoot the bridge itself instead of the archway under it, I judiciously stepped ashore.
The next moment I had my long-coveted desire: I saw a raft wrecked.

It hit the pier in the center and went all to smash and scatteration like a box of matches struck by lightning.
I was the only one of our party who saw this grand sight; the others were attitudinizing, for the benefit of the long rank of young ladies who were promenading on the bank, and so they lost it.

But I helped to fish them out of the river, down below the bridge, and then described it to them as well as I could.
They were not interested, though.