156 Winkle: the Eel-Man 



like the Swan Island flood-gates and Hickory- 

 Meadow and the tall poplars were passed in 

 quick succession, and then we went through 

 the crooked water-way of the wild Willow 

 bend, where Nature has never been dis- 

 turbed, swiftly, it seemed, as might a fright- 

 ened fish. It was a splendid ride, but too 

 short. All too soon for me, we were at rest 

 where the stream forms a wide bay and the 

 waters of Barge Creek come pouring into it 

 with every outgoing tide. 



Before I could realize what Winkle was 

 about he had disappeared. He had left the 

 boat so quietly it was not moved from an 

 even keel, nor was there any commotion in 

 the water. Fancy a water-snake gliding 

 over the gunwales and you have the fash- 

 ion of Winkle's movements accurately de- 

 scribed. 



For me, of course, there was nothing to 

 do but sit quietly in the boat and await his 

 return and report of what he had found. 

 Winkle was now groping in the water and 

 mud as might an eel in search of food. How 

 he could determine anything was a mystery. 

 Might he not be something of a humbug, 

 after all? I sometimes asked myself this; 



