me is in full possession of the
river, and of all the other waters of the Boy's Town. The river, the
Canal Basin, the Hydraulic and its Reservoirs, seemed all full of boys
at the same moment; but perhaps it was not the same, for my boy was
always in each place, and so he must have been there at different times.
Each place had its delights and advantages, but the swimming-holes in
the river were the greatest favorites. He could not remember when he
began to go into them, though it certainly was before he could swim.
There was a time when he was afraid of getting in over his head; but he
did not know just when he learned to swim, any more than he knew when he
learned to read; he could not swim, and then he could swim; he could not
read, and then he could read; but I dare say the reading came somewhat
before the swimming. Yet the swimming must have come very early, and
certainly it was kept up with continual practice; he swam quite as much
as he read; perhaps more. The boys had deep swimming-holes and shallow
ones; and over the deep ones there was always a spring-board, from which
they threw somersaults, or dived straight down into the depths, where
there were warm and cold currents mysteriously interwoven. They believed
that these deep holes were infested by water-snakes, though they never
saw any, and they expected to be bitten by snapping-turtles, though this
never happened. Fiery dragons could not have kept them out;
gallynippers, whatever they were, certainly did not; they were believed
to abound at the bottom of the deep holes; but the boys never stayed
long in the deep holes, and they preferred the shallow places, where the
river broke into a long ripple (they called it riffle) on its gravelly
bed, and where they could at once soak and bask in the musical rush of
the sunlit waters. I have heard people in New England blame all the
Western rivers for being yellow and turbid; but I know that after the
spring floods, when the Miami had settled down to its summer business
with the boys, it was as clear and as blue as if it were spilled out of
the summer sky. The boys liked the riffle because they could stay in so
long there, and there were little landlocked pools and shallows, where
the water was even warmer, and they could stay in longer. At most
places under the banks there was clay of different colors, which they
used for war-paint in their Indian fights; and after they had their
Indian fights they could rush screaming