Trees were not as thick as they had been on the right, and there was a farm in the distance, but on the other side of the river were trees thick as ever, and also there was a peculiar-looking hill. From where they stood, Luke saw a small cave or maybe a place that had been dug out in the dirt on the side of the hill, and sticks laid across the dugout, like somebody had made a place to sit out of the rain. “Can you swim, Daylily?” Luke asked, looking at the river. She shook her head violently. “Not me.” “I can swim,” Luke assured her. “I can save you. You swim, Caswell?” Caswell moved his head up and down slowly. Dalylily said, “You lying, you can’t do no such thing.” “Can too,” insisted Caswell, his small chin sticking out as far as it could go. He was determined to prove himself. “You don’t know anything about what I can do!” “Us should cross over,” Luke said, pointing to the place in the hill that looked like a perfect campsite. The river was not deep here, and there was a fallen tree that formed a perfect bridge.
