"You have missed the crossing," shouted one of the men.
"I know I have," replied the fiddler.
"If you go ten feet farther you will be drowned."
"I know I shall."
"Turn back," cried the man.
"I can't," said the fiddler.
"Then how the deuce will you get out?"
"I'm sure I don't know; come and help me."
The men from the clearing, who understood the river, took our horses, rode up to the sulky, and after some difficulty succeeded in bringing the traveler safe to shore. Then we recognized him as the worthy parson, who had played for us at a puppet show in Little Rock.
"You have had a narrow escape," said we.