Then  we  crept  into  one  of  the  strangest
shelters  ever  inhabited  by  a  teacher  and  a
poet.  We  rested  well.  If  you  should  ever  be
troubled  with  insomnia,  I  suggest  that  you
find  a  large,  clean,  iron  pipe  on  a  bank  above
a  river,  put  shavings  in  it,  spread  your  blan-
kets out  thereon,  eat  a  dinner  of  plain  boiled
potatoes,  turn  in  early,  and  find  your  cure!

Early  the  next  morning  The  Dingbat  fol-
lowed the  large  boat  through  the  locks  and
was  left  below  the  dam,  floating  securely  on
that  portion  of  the  Willamette  River  which
is  said  to  be  "bottomless.'*  Every  lake  and
stream  we  know  has  an  alleged  "bottomless"
place.  At  some  spot  known  to  small  boys
and  ancient  romancers  every  pond  and  river
pours  its  floods  through  the  earth  to  the  Anti-
podes or  draws  them  thence!  Having  lis-
tened to  such  tales  alongshore,  I  used  to
tremble  when  we  went  gliding  over  these  dark
abysses.    I  did  not  care  to  sink  through  this


62  The  Dingbat  of  Arcady

perforated  sphere,  only  to  emerge  damp  and
bedraggled  in  some  foreign  land  where  I
should  be  unable  to  speak  the  language!
Now  I  have  learned  to  float  upon  such  fabled
deeps  without  a  tremor.  There  must  be  fairy
tales !

We  crossed  the  "bottomless*'  part  of  our
stream  and  made  for  the  mouth  of  the  little
Clackamas  River  which  pours  into  the  Wil-
lamette at  a  sharp  angle  to  it  just  below  the
dam.  We  had  planned  to  go  up  the  Clackamas
in  search  of  fish.
