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I MISSISSIPPI DREAMING
CEI
I had wormed my way, inch by inch, out of the treacherous mud.
I had survived one cold night without protection. By drinking
the silty water of the inland sea, I had dulled my hunger.
But now every stroke was an effort, and the first house
still lay three days ahead. Also, my canoe had developed a
leak, and the sun was going down. I was just starting my
25,000th stroke since the taste of food, when I heard a sound
rather like distant thunder. Seconds later, a plane hopped over
the hills, seemed to hesitate, then banked steeply. I wondered
if I was dreaming when I saw Bill's curly hair and lopsided
grin. But the Mars Bars that had bounced off the shore tasted
PE
wonderfully real....
The bridge that had brought me to that surprising rendezvous
spanned not only two continents but also a large part of my
youth. To understand where I was and what I was trying to do,
it is perhaps best to go back a little.
It wa . . .