starts to swimmin' fancy
an' goin' 'round in circles, same as if his funny-bone's been teched.

"'Every time he gets in reach I jabs him in the eye with the splinter
end of the bough, an' at last he grows that disgusted at these
formal'ties he swims off to the bank. Thar he camps down on his
ha'nches, an' glares green-eyed at me across the ragin' flood.

"'Shore, I could have raised the long yell for he'p, but am withheld
by foolish pride. Besides, I can hear Ben an' Jenks tusslin' an'
gruntin' an' carryin' on over in the mouth of the hollow, as they
kyarves into each other with their knives, an' don't want to distract
their attention.

"'As I sets camped thar on my lodged tree, an' the catamount is
planted on the bank, I hears the lippin' splash of a paddle, an' then
a voice which sounds like a chime of bells floats across to ask, "Dick
Stallins, you ornery runnigate, wharever be you?"

"'It's my Sarah Ann, whose love, gettin' the upper hand of maidenly
reeserve, has sent her projectin' 'round in search of me. She's in my
dugout.

"'The catamount identifies her as soon as me; an' thinkin' she ought
to be easy, he slides into the water ag'in an' starts for the
boat. It's that dark I ain't shore of his deesigns ontil I sees
him reach up, tip the dugout over, an' set Sarah Ann to wallowin' in
the rushin' torrent. The dugout upsets on the catamount, an' this so
confooses him that, by the time he's got his bearin's, Sarah Ann's
been swept down to my tree, an' I've lifted her to a seat by my
side. The catamount don't try to lay siege to our p'sition,
recognizing it as impregnable, but paddles back to the shore an'
goes into watchful camp as prior.

"'For myse'f, I'm so elevated with love an' affection at havin' Sarah
Ann with me, I dismisses the catamount as a dead issue, an' as sech
beneath contempt, an' by way of mollifyin' Sarah Ann's feelin's, cuts
loose an' kisses her a gross or two of times, an' each like the crack
of a bull-whacker's whip.

"'Old Bender hears them caresses plumb up to his house--as well he
may, they're that onreeserved an' earnest--an' thinks it's some one
shootin' a rifle. It has the effect of bringin' out the old Spartan
with his Hawkins; an' the first word of it that reaches me an' Sarah
Ann is him, Marm Bender an' the whole b'ilin' of folks is down thar on
the bank, tryin' to make out in the gen'ral dimness whatever be we-all
lovers doin' out thar in the middle of the Hawgthief on a snag