"A broad expanse of the river was turned to blood....in the middle distance the red hue brightened into gold, through which a solitary log came floating black and conspicuous....and high above the forest wall a clean‐stemmed dead tree waved a single leafy bough that glowed like a flame in the unobstructed splendor that was flowing from the sun."
His magnificent recollection of the wonderful and rich color from only the sun and the surrounding trees alone would be enough to hinder leaving behind. He also mentions the ripples of the water, the swells and the declines, and states, "...in another the surface was broken by boiling, tumbling rings..." (Twain 350.) He goes on to use as equal of imaginative speech. One can picture him standing on the bank just as