Make an early start if you wish an eventful outing. Why know the world only when the day is middle-aged¹ or old? A wise German has said, “The morning hour has gold in its mouth.” For many a rod after leaving the wharf² the river still “smoked,” and the scanty³ glimpses between the rolling clouds of mist spurred the imagination. There was nothing certain beyond the gunwales. The pale-yellow color of the water near at hand and the deep-green and even black of that in the distance had no daytime suggestiveness. It was not yet the familiar river with its noonday glitter of blue and silver.

It is not strange that the initial adventure to which the above-mentioned conditions naturally gave rise occurred while this state of uncertainty⁴ continued. Very soon I ran upon a 174snag. To strike such an object in mid-river was rather startling. Was I not in or near the channel? Steamboats come puffing⁵ and plowing⁶ here and sailing craft pass up and down, so my only care had been to avoid them; but now there came in my path the twisted trunk of an old forest tree and held me fast. All the while the mist rose and fell, giving no inkling of my whereabouts. In the dim, misty⁷ light what a strange sea-monster this resurrected tree-trunk seemed to be! Its thick green coat of silky threads lay closely as the shining fur of the otter⁸, a mane of eel-grass floated on the water, the gnarly growths where branches once had been glistened⁹ as huge eyes, and broken limbs were horns that threatened quick destruction. There was motion, too. Slowly it rose above the water and then as slowly sunk from view. Could it be possible that some long-necked saurian of the

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