“Of course.”
“Then if I was you I should tell him to sail up the river.”
“What, is there water enough—deep water?” asked the lieutenant.
“Whatcher talking about?” said the man contemptuously. “Why, didn’t you see me sail out?”
The lieutenant shook his head.
“Think o’ that!” said the American. “Way in’s bit narrer, but as soon as you get threw the trees you’re in a big mighty river you can sail up for months if yew like. I have heerd that there’s some falls somewhere, but I’ve never seem ’em. Water enough? My snakes! There’s water enough to make a flood, if you want one, as soon as you get by the winding bits.”
“The river winds?” said the lieutenant.
“Winds? I should think she does! Why, look yonder, mister,” continued the man, pointing. “It’s all trees like that for miles. You’ve got to get through them.”
“Deep water?” asked the lieutenant.
“Orful! On’y it’s ’bout as muddy as rivers can be made.”