OXFORD: THE UPPER RIVER 195 



shall surely be convinced that the smugs have the 

 best of it. 



There, we are not going to pull against time. You 

 may light your j)ipe and lie back in the stern of the 

 boat, and I will paddle you up stream and talk to you 

 about the upper river. 



How far shall we get ? One cannot tell. It will 

 depend entirely upon what there is to see and hear. 



Close under the tow-path the stream is running 

 swift and strong. But in only a narrow channel, for 

 clean across to the other bank the river is one big 

 shallow. Everywhere you may see the sunlight 

 playing on the golden gravel. Myriads of tiny fish — 

 fry, minnow, and bleak ("bly" in the language of ^^ 

 Thames-side) — are darting about in shoals. Nature 

 creates them in their millions because they have so 

 many enemies. They carry their life — these little fish 

 — in their fins, so to speak. Life would be unendur- 

 able could they anticipate ; but I think they are 

 always taken unawares. Now a thing that they took 

 for a mussel-shell starts up, opens, and sinks again 

 into the mud, and two or three of their number are 

 missing — for an eel had been lying with his evil head 

 just clear of the mud. Now a rainbow-coloured thing, 

 flashing like Excalibur, comes headlong in from 



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