"
"Thar to be lost," said the unpoetical Long Jim.
"Not to be lost, never to be lost, Jim," said Shif'less Sol earnestly.
"That Missip. water is still thar in the sea, an' it goes slippin' an'
slidin' along with the salt clean to all them old continents. It takes a
look in at England, that's fightin' us in the East, an' if the English
could understand the water's language it might tell 'em a lot o' things
that wuz wuth their knowin'. An' then it goes on to Spain an' France an'
Germany, whar they talk all them useless tongues, an' after a while it
takes a whirl clean 'roun' Africa an' Asia, an' sees goodness knows what,
an' then goes slippin' off to see islands in oceans that I ain't ever
heard tell on. Jumpin' Jehoshaphat but ain't that a movin' an' stirrin'
life fur ye!"
Sol drew a deep breath and Paul looked at him with shining eyes.
"You've said a good deal of what I was thinking, Sol," he said, "but for
which I couldn't find words."
"We're likely to travel with the river for a while," said Tom Ross, "an'
we must purvide a way."
"We'll do it soon," said Henry.
They camped that night in a dense grove near the bank but they built no
fire. After midnight Henry and Shif'less Sol slipped away and went
northward.
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