Don’t think we weren’t kept busy, though. There were twists and turns and points and stones and brush-piles. All of these kept getting in the way, and it wasn’t so easy as you may think to keep away from them.
After we’d been shooting along for half an hour we whirled around a bend, and there the stream split in two. I looked one way, and there, across the water, lay a big tree that had fallen. As quick as I could I swung the other way, and, _kersmash_! we crashed against a sharp snag. You could hear it rip the side of the canoe. We hung there a minnit and then swung toward shore, where the current got a good push at the canoe and came pretty near to upsetting it. I jumped out in the water, which was only above my knees, and hung on. Mark jumped, too, but he hit a deeper spot and got in pretty nearly to his shoulders. It was a tussle for a little while, but at last we got the canoe swung around so she was all right, except for the hole in her side. Then we waded ashore.
The place where we landed was on a sharp point where the cut-off divided. The stream pelted down on either side of us, and disappeared in the woods. The ground we stood on was black, oozy marsh. As soon as you picked up a foot your track filled with water.
“Haul her ashore,” says he; and we got a grip on the canoe and dragged it up beside us.
“L-lucky I brought that p-paint and canvas,” says he, all puffed up about himself. Mark liked to have folks appreciate what he did, I can tell you.
“Been luckier,” I says, “if we hadn’t come foolin’ down this offshoot. We’d ’a’ done better to stick to the river.”
“No use f-fussin’ about it now. We’re here!”
That was just like Mark, too. He never worried about what _might_ have happened, but always got to work fixing up what _had_ happened.
We took everything out of the canoe and turned the canoe bottom side up. From there on I wasn’t much good. Mark was the fellow that fixed it. He pounded and whittled and fussed around till it began to get dark.
“Wish we’d b-brought a lantern,” says he.
“So do I,” says I. “I hain’t in love with campin’ out here with no light.”
“Can’t finish it to-night now,” I says. “Better leave it and come look for a place to camp. It don’t look to me as if there was anything but swamp for miles.”