what it was, Jim. You tell them something else," and so Captain Davis submitted, While Captain Dunn, with a laugh, got away beyond reach of his protest. Then Captain Davis, with fitting, deprecatory preamble, Launched himself on a story that promised to be all a story Could be expected to be, when one of those women—you know them—     Who interrupt on any occasion or none, interrupted, Pointed her hand, and asked, "Oh, what is that island there, captain?"     "That one, ma'am?" He gave her the name, and then the woman persisted,     "Don't say you know them all by sight!" "Yes, by sight or by feeling."     "What do you mean by feeling?" "Why, just that by daylight we see them, And in the dark it's like as if somehow we felt them, I reckon. Every foot of the channel and change in it, wash-out and cave-in, [Pg 70]     Every bend and turn of it, every sand-bar and landmark, Every island, of course, we have got to see them, or feel them."     "But if you don't?" "But we've got to." "But aren't you ever mistaken?"     "Never the second time." "Now, what do you mean, Captain Davis? Never the second time." "Well, let me tell you a story. It's not the one I begun, but that island you asked about yonder Puts me in mind of it, happens to be the place where it happened, Three years ago. I suppose no man ever knew the Ohio Better than Captain Dunlevy, if any one else knew it like him. Man and boy he had been pretty much his whole life on the river:     Cabin-boy first on a keelboat before the day of the steamboats, Back in the pioneer times; and watchman then on a steamboat; Then second mate, and then mate, and then pilot and captain and owner—     But he was proudest, I reckon, of being about the best pilot [Pg 71]     On the Ohio. He knew it as well as he knew his own Bible, And I don't hardly believe that ever Captain Dunlevy Let a single day go by without reading a chapter."

It was on these terms, at least, Captain Dunn relieved Captain Davis

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While the pilot went on with his talk, and in regular, rhythmical motion Swayed from one side to the other before his wheel, and we listened, Certain typical facts of the picturesque life of the river Won their way to our consciousness as without help of our senses. It was along about the beginning of March, but already In the sleepy sunshine the budding maples and willows, Where they waded out in the shallow wash of the freshet, Showed the dull red and the yellow green of their blossoms and 

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