Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Get up! What are you doing?"

I opened my eyes and looked around, trying to figure out where I was.The sun came out early and I have been sleeping soundly.Dad was standing by and looking down at me, his face was ugly, as if he was sick.He said:
"What are you doing with this gun?"

I concluded that he had no idea what he had done last night, so I said:

"Someone was trying to break into the house, so I'm lying in ambush here, ready to deal with him."

"Then why didn't you wake me up?"

"Oh, it did, but it didn't wake up; I can't push you."

"Well, okay. Don't stand there talking nonsense all day long. Go and see if the line we set has caught any fish. If there is any, bring it back for breakfast. I'll go out and come back later."

As soon as he unlocked the door, I ran out and came to the bank.There were some twigs floating in the river, and some bits of bark; I knew the river was going to rise when I saw it.I figured if I were in town, I'd be having a good time now.When the river rises in June, my luck comes; for when the water rises, it immediately floats down great chunks of wood, and scattered rafts, sometimes a dozen or so logs joined together Boy; you just pick it up and take it to the lumberyard or sawmill and sell it for money.

I walked up the bank, watching Dad and watching something float down the water.Well, in a second there came a little canoe; it was beautiful, about thirteen or fourteen feet long, and floated along like a duck.I didn't even have time to take off my clothes, I plunged into the water from the bank like a frog, and swam towards the small boat.I figured there might be someone lying in the canoe, because some people often play tricks on others like this, and when someone catches up with the boat, the person lying in the canoe would suddenly sit up and laugh at them.But this time is different.There was no owner of this little boat that came down the current, no problem, I climbed up and rowed it to the shore.I think the old man will be very happy when he sees it. This little boat is worth ten yuan anyway.But I couldn't see my father's shadow when I paddled to the bank, and then I paddled into a ditch-like stream, with willows and vines growing on both sides of the stream, and then I suddenly came up with an idea: just Hide it well, and I won't have to hide in the woods when I run away, and I can paddle fifty miles down the river and find a place to stay forever, and I won't have to run errands and wander around to death.

When I got close to the hut, I seemed to hear the old man coming, but I hid the canoe before I came out. I looked around in a willow tree, and I saw the old man was hunting birds alone on the trail, so he didn’t know anything. did not see it.

I was hauling in a "raft hook" line when he came.He scolded me a few times and thought I was working too slowly, so I told him that I fell into the river and that's why I took so long.I'm soaked, he's sure to be able to see that, and he'll be sure to question me.We took five catfish off the line and headed back to the house.

After breakfast, we both felt very tired, and lay down to sleep, when my mind came back to me.It would be nice if there was a way that neither Papa nor the widow could find me. It would be a lot more sure of getting out by luck than people noticing.You have to know that if you run away like that, maybe all the troubles will happen.Well, I couldn't think of anything for a while, but after a while Dad sat up, drank another pitcher of water, and said:
"The next time someone comes around the area, you wake me up, do you hear me? That man came here with no good intentions. I'm going to shoot him. Next time you're going to wake me up, do you hear me?"

And then he lay down and went back to sleep—but what he said just gave me a good idea, and that's what I wanted.I thought to myself, now I will think of a way so that no one can find me.

About twelve o'clock, we went out and walked up the river bank. The water rose very fast, and a lot of logs floated down from the water.After a while, a raft that fell apart floated over—nine logs connected together.We got into the boat and rowed out, dragged the logs ashore, and then went to lunch.If it were someone else, they would definitely stay there all day and get a lot of things, but Dad didn't like to do that.He felt that it would be enough to catch nine logs at a time, and he wanted to get the logs to the town to sell immediately.So he locked me in the house, and at about 03:30, got into a boat and dragged the wood away.I figured he wouldn't be back that night, but after he'd been gone for a while, I took out my saw and sawed the wood again.I sawed a hole and got out before he was on the other side of the river, and there he and the logs were just a little black spot on the water far away.

I took the sack of cornmeal to where the canoe was hidden, and parted the cane branches, and put it in the canoe; put the bacon in there; and the pitcher of whiskey; I took it all; I took the book and the newspaper for the cushion; I took the bucket and gourd gourd;I also took fishing line and matches and other odds and ends--anything worth a few pennies, I took it all.I cleaned up that place.I want an axe, but there's none there, only the one on the woodpile, and I see why it's kept.Finally I got the gun out and everything was in place now.

I crawled in and out of that hole, and dragged out so many things one by one, and the ground was worn down a lot.So I cleaned up the outside as much as I could, and sprinkled the ground with soil to cover the polished marks and the piece of sawdust.Then insert the sawn piece of wood into the original place, put two stones under it, and use another one to support it, because the original part is bent upwards, and there is still a little space from the ground.If you don't know where it was sawed, you won't be able to see it from a few steps away; besides, this is the back of the house, and no one will come here to wander around.

The grass went all the way to the canoe, so I didn't leave any footprints, and I walked around and looked around, and stood on the bank and looked across the river for a while.safe and sound.So I picked up my gun and walked into the woods alone.When I was looking around to hunt for birds, I suddenly saw a wild boar. The domestic pig ran away from the farm on the grassland and came to the low-lying area by the river, where it soon turned into a wild boar.I shot the boar and dragged it back to the hut.

I picked up the ax and struck at the door, left and right, and managed to open the door.I dragged the dead pig in, dragged it close to the table, cut its neck with an axe, and let it bleed on the ground, and I say "on the ground" because it was the ground, hard and solid , no floor.Well, next I got an old sack and put a lot of big rocks in it--as many as I could drag--and dragged it to the gate, through the woods, down to the river, to the water As soon as I pushed it, it sank and disappeared without a trace.In this way, it is easy to see traces of things being dragged on the ground.What if Tom?Sawyer would have been nice to be there, I know he likes this kind of thing and can come up with some weird ideas and new tricks.Who better to do this kind of thing than Tom?Sawyer did a great job.

At last I tore out some locks of my hair, and after blooding the ax well, I glued my hair to the back of the axe, and threw the axe in the corner of the room.I picked up the dead pig again, put my coat on my chest (so it wouldn't drip blood), and walked a good distance down from the house before throwing it into the river.Then I thought of something else.So he ran to get the bag of cornmeal and the old saw from the canoe and took them back to the cabin.I put the bag of flour back where it was, and cut a slit under it with the saw, for there were no forks and knives in the house--Papa ate everything with his jackknife.Then I carried my bag of flour across the meadow, and walked about a hundred yards through the willow grove east of the house, to a shallow lake, five miles wide, and full of rushes--so to speak. The lake is still full of ducks this season.On the other side of the lake there was a brook, which flowed out for several miles, and went somewhere, but did not go into the river anyway.The cornmeal was sprinkled all the way, forming a mark, which continued to the lake.I put Dad's whetstone in there too, to make it look like it was accidentally dropped there.Then tied up the tear in the flour bag with a string to prevent it from leaking, and then carried it and the saw back to the canoe.

At this time, it was getting dark, so I pushed the small boat into the water, leaned against the willow tree on the bank, and waited for the moon to come out.I tied the canoe to a willow tree, and got something to eat, and when I was done I lay in the canoe and smoked a pipe, and worked out a plan in my head.I thought to myself, people would follow the marks dragged by the bag of stones all the way to the river and salvage me.They still have to follow the cornmeal to find the lake, and then chase all the way to the creek on the other side of the lake to catch the robbers who killed me and robbed me.They'd keep trying to get my body out of the river, and they'd get tired of it before long, and wouldn't bother to find me anymore.It's all right now, I can stay where I want to be.To me, Jackson's Island is all right; I know that island well, and no one else goes there.I can row out to town in the dark, and slink around and get what I need.Jackson Island is indeed a good place.

I was so sleepy that I fell asleep without realizing it.When I woke up, I didn't know where I was for a moment. I sat up and looked around, and I couldn't help being afraid.After a while, I remembered the ins and outs of the matter.The river stretches as far as the eye can see, and it is not known how many miles wide it is.The moon was so bright that I could almost count the logs floating on the water a few hundred yards from the bank.Everything was terribly quiet, it seemed that it was getting late, and I could smell it was getting late.Surely you know what I mean--I just can't say it.

I yawned happily and stretched.Just about to untie the cable and start the boat, I heard a sound on the river in the distance.I listened for a while.It didn't take long to figure out what was going on.It was the even and monotonous sound of the oars being rowed against the oarlocks on a quiet night.I looked out through the willow branches, and sure enough I saw a boat in the distance on the river.I can't see how many people are in the boat.The boat kept rowing towards this side, and when it was in a straight line with me, I saw clearly that there was only one person in it.Maybe it's Dad, I thought, but I don't want it to be him.He paddled down the current and then turned around and out onto the steady water on the bank, and got so close to me that I could almost touch him if I just got the gun out and held it out.Well, it's none other than Papa, that's all right--by the way he paddles, he's still sober and not drunk.

Not daring to lose a minute, I immediately rowed down the river in the shadow of the bank, quickly and silently.After paddling for two and a half miles, I only paddled a few hundred yards to the middle of the river, because I will soon pass the ferry dock, paddle next to the bank, and people on the bank will see me and say hello to me.I paddled among the floating logs and lay down on the bottom of the canoe and let it float down.I lay there well rested, smoked a pipe, and looked at the sky, not a single cloud in sight.Lying in the moonlight and looking at the sky, you will feel that the sky is so deep; I didn't realize it at all before.How far one can hear on the water in such a quiet night!I heard people talking on the pier.I can still hear what they are saying, and I can hear every word clearly.

Someone said it was time for the days to be longer and the nights to be shorter.Another said he didn't think it was a short night--they both laughed, and then they talked and laughed again.Then the two woke up the other and told him this, and they laughed again, but the old man didn't; .The first to speak said he was going to tell it to his wife--she would surely find it interesting; but he said it was a far cry from the pretty things he had said in his youth.I heard a man say it was nearly three o'clock, and he hoped he wouldn't have to wait almost another week for daylight.Later, their voices became farther and farther away, and I couldn't hear them clearly anymore, but I could still hear grunts and laughter from time to time, but it seemed very far away.

By this time I was under the pier.I got up and saw that Jackson Island was almost two and a half miles below. The island was densely wooded, standing upright in the middle of the river, and it was as big and black and solid as a steamship with no lights.There was no sign of the sandbar at the head of the island—then the swollen river covered it all.

It didn't take me long to get there.The current was strong, and I shot like an arrow across the front of the island to the calm waters at the edge of the island, and landed on the side toward the Illinois bank.I rowed the canoe into a deep inlet I knew well, and I had to part the low-hanging willow branches to get in; small boat.

I went ashore and sat down on a big log at the front of the island to rest, looking at the big river in front of me and the dark logs floating on the water, and at the town three miles away, where there were only three or four Lights are flickering everywhere.About a mile upstream floated down a huge raft with a light on it.I watched it slowly drift down, and when it was in line with where I was standing, I heard a person say: "Pull the tail oar, good! Turn the bow to the right!" The voice was as clear as that person It's the same as what I said.

It was getting a little gray by this time; so I went into the woods and lay down, intending to take a nap before breakfast.

(End of this chapter)

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