In Open Spaces: Little Missouri River
I was always amazed when anyone drowned in the Little Missouri River, which was only twenty-five or thirty feet across, not even big enough to rate a name of its own. It just didn’t seem possible that someone, especially an adult, could not find a way to crawl out once they fell in. But every couple of years, some unfortunate soul would plunge into its muddy flow and not emerge until their lungs filled with water. (81)
Rowland, Russell. In Open Spaces. New York: Harper Perennial, 2002.