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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 . . .