you are not. You are safe."

"No! Am I? Hookie!"

I had placed myself astride the log, and was now in a comfortable
position. I moved up to him, when I found it was safe to approach him,
and assisted him into an easier posture. Gradually I restored him to his
former self, and finally assured him that he was still in the land of
the living, where he might remain if he would only be reasonable.

"Where are we going to?" he asked.

"Down the river."

"Down to New Orleans?"

"Not yet, if you will behave like a man. Have a little pluck, Sim."

"I dassent!" replied he, with a shake of his frame.

"Now hold on tight! I'm going to try to get ashore," I called to him, as
I saw that the current would carry us under the overhanging branch of a
tree, which I could reach by making a strong effort.

"Don't leave me, Buck!" pleaded he, in his terror.

"I won't leave you. Cling to the log," I replied, as I jumped up, and
succeeded in grasping the branch of the tree.

I pulled it down till I got hold of a part strong enough to check the
progress of the log; but the current was so swift that I was nearly
dragged from it. By twining my legs around the log, I held on till its
momentum was overcome; and then I had no difficulty in drawing it in
till the end touched the shore. After much persuasion I induced Sim to
work himself along the stick till he reached the dry land; for we had
passed beyond the greatest depression in the swamp, where the stream did
not cover the banks.

Eagerly he passed from the log to the bank, and actually danced with joy
when he found himself once more on the solid earth.

"Hookie! Hookie!" shouted he, opening his mouth from ear to ear, while
his fat face lighted up with an expression of delight, like a baby with
a new rattle.

"Are you going to let me go down stream, Sim?" I called to him,
reproachfully, for he seemed to have more regard for his own safety than
for mine.

"What shall I do?" he asked, blankly; and he appeared to have an idea
that I could not possibly need any assistance from him.

"Catch hold of the end of the log, and haul it up so that I can get
ashore. If I let go the branch, the log will go down stream again."

Sim lifted the log, and hauled it far out of the water. He was as strong
as an ox now, though he had been as weak as an infant a few moments
before. I crawled up the stick, and went ashore. The moment I was fairly
on the land, Sim threw his arms around my neck, and