Winkle: the Eel-Man 165 



rank reed growth just inshore from where 

 the wreck was lying. It may only be a 

 stray cow, or dog digging for musk-rats, I 

 thought, but I strongly suspected it was 

 Winkle. But why was he inshore and not 

 under the water? I determined that my 

 little woodcraft should stand me well in 

 hand. I would surprise Winkle, although I 

 knew I was pitted against a man that could 

 not readily be deceived. Now was my 

 chance to show him, if it was Winkle, that 

 I had been an apt scholar. Very slowly 

 drawing back, I noiselessly hid my boat in 

 thick-set button-bushes on the creek-bank, 

 and, creeping to a clump of trees, climbed 

 up into one until I could get a bird's-eye 

 view of the surroundings. It never occurred 

 to me he could look up at a tree as easily as 

 I could look down from it. As I supposed, 

 I plainly recognized the man who was steadily 

 Digging in the stiff soil that is now just a 

 little above high tide. I saw at a glance the 

 whole truth. One end of the vessel reached 

 out into the present creek channel and the 

 rest of it was buried in the steep, stiff mud- 

 bank of the stream. Satisfied of this, I 

 clambered down from my perch and began 



