to stir.  And how slow and still the time did drag along. CHAPTER VII. “GIT up!  What you 'bout?” I opened my eyes and looked around, trying to make out where I was.  It was after sun-up, and I had been sound asleep.  Pap was standing over me looking sour and sick, too.  He says: “What you doin' with this gun?” I judged he didn't know nothing about what he had been doing, so I says: “Somebody tried to get in, so I was laying for him.” “Why didn't you roust me out?” “Well, I tried to, but I couldn't; I couldn't budge you.” “Well, all right.  Don't stand there palavering all day, but out with you and see if there's a fish on the lines for breakfast.  I'll be along in a minute.” He unlocked the door, and I cleared out up the river-bank.  I noticed some pieces of limbs and such things floating down, and a sprinkling of bark; so I knowed the river had begun to rise.  I reckoned I would have great times now if I was over at the town.  The June rise used to be always luck for me; because as soon as that rise begins here comes cordwood floating down, and pieces of log rafts--sometimes a dozen logs together; so all you have to do is to catch them and sell them to the wood-yards and the sawmill. I went along up the bank with one eye out for pap and t'other one out for what the rise might fetch along.  Well, all at once here comes a canoe; just a beauty, too, about thirteen or fourteen foot long, riding high like a duck.  I shot head-first off of the bank like a frog, clothes and all on, and struck out for the canoe.  I just expected there'd be somebody laying down in it, because people often done that to fool folks, and when a chap had pulled a skiff out most to it they'd raise up and laugh at him.  But it warn't so this time.  It was a drift-canoe sure enough, and I clumb in and paddled her ashore.  Thinks I, the old man will be glad when he sees this--she's worth ten dollars.  But when I got to shore pap wasn't in sight yet, and as I was running her into a li