At eleven o'clock only the roof of the little log stable was out of
water, and our inn was on an island in mid-ocean. As far as the eye
could reach, in the moonlight, there was no desert visible, but only a
level waste of shining water. The Indians were true prophets, but how
did they get their information? I am not able to answer the question.
We remained cooped up eight days and nights with that curious crew.
Swearing, drinking and card playing were the order of the day, and
occasionally a fight was thrown in for variety. Dirt and vermin--but let
us forget those features; their profusion is simply inconceivable--it is
better that they remain so.
There were two men----however, this chapter is long enough.
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Roughing It, Part 3.
by Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens)
*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROUGHING IT, PART 3. ***
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