VI. 



CROSSING THE CARRY. 



" TOHN," said I, as we stood looking at each 

 I other across the boat, " this rain is wet." 

 " It generally is, up in this region, I believe," 

 he responded, as he wiped the water out of his 

 eyes with the back of his hand, and shook the ac- 

 cumulating drops from nose and chin ; " but the 

 waterproof I have on has lasted me some thirty- 

 eight years, and I don't think it will wet through 

 to-day." 



" Well ! " I exclaimed, " there is no use of stand- 

 ing here in this marsh-grass any longer ; help me 

 to load up. I 'U take the baggage, and you the 

 boat." 



" You 'U. never get through with it, if you try to 

 take it all at once. Better load light, and I 'U. 

 come back after what 's left," was the answer. 

 " I tell you," he continued, " the swamp is full of 

 water, and soft as muck." 



" John," said I, " that baggage is going over at 

 one load, sink or swim, live or die, survive or per- 

 ish. I '11 make the attempt, swamp or no swamp. 

 My life is assured against accidents by fire, water. 



