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Rh a wail of anguish, a shriek, and a scene of confusion in our boat that no language can describe. The boat we were watching disappeared and we saw the men and boys struggling in the water. Father and Uncle Jesse, seeing their children drowning, were seized with frenzy, and dropping their oars sprang up from their seats and were about to leap from the boat to make a desperate attempt to swim to them, when mother and Aunt Cynthia, in voices that were distinctly heard above the roar of the rushing waters, by commands and entreaties brought them to a realization of our own periliousperilous [sic] situation, and the madness of an attempt to reach the other side of the river by swimming. This was sixty-seven years ago, and yet the words of that frantic appeal by the women, which saved our boat and two families from speedy and certain destruction, are fresh in my memory. They were, "Men, don't quit the oars. If you do we will all be lost." The men returned to the oars just in time to avoid, by great exertion, a rock against which the current dashed with such fury that the foam and froth upon its apex was as white as milk. I sat on the right hand side of the boat and the rock was so near that I thought if we had not passed so quickly I might have put my hand upon it.

Having escaped the present danger, the next thought no doubt, was to effect a landing at the earliest possible moment, but the shore was rock-bound, rising several feet perpendicularly and presenting a serried line of ragged points against which the rapid current fretted and frothed, and the waves, rearing their foam-flecked heads aloft, rushed to destruction like martial squadrons upon an invincible foe. Ah! That half hour's experience, this scene so wild, so commotional, so fearful and exciting, had not death been there, were worth a month of ordinary life.

Lower down the river, however, there was a break in the line of the shore and here the boat was landed, the women and children going ashore. It has often been said that "Truth is stranger than fiction," and it is true, for an author manufacturing a story will avoid what would appear to be absurd, but in telling a true story, facts must be stated regardless of appearances. This is a case in point, for it is a fact that just as our boat touched the shore, father grabbed his gun from its