I was glad the way it come out, too, because crabapples ain't ever good, and the p'simmons wouldn't be ripe for two or three months yet.
We shot a water-fowl now and then that got up too early in the morning or didn't go to bed early enough in the evening.

Take it all round, we lived pretty high.
The fifth night below St.Louis we had a big storm after midnight, with a power of thunder and lightning, and the rain poured down in a solid sheet.

We stayed in the wigwam and let the raft take care of itself.
When the lightning glared out we could see a big straight river ahead, and high, rocky bluffs on both sides.

By and by says I, "Hel-LO, Jim, looky yonder!" It was a steamboat that had killed herself on a rock.

We was drifting straight down for her.