A EIVER VIEW 195 



About three o'clock the next morning — the mer- 

 cury two degrees below zero — the silence of our 

 part of the river was suddenly broken by the alarm 

 bell of a passing steamer; she was in the jaws of 

 the icy legions, and was crying for help; many 

 sleepers alongshore remembered next day that the 

 sound of a bell had floated across their dreams, 

 without arousing them. One man was awakened 

 before long by a loud pounding at his door. On 

 opening it, a tall form, wet and icy, fell in upon 

 him with the cry, " The Sunnyside is sunk ! " The 

 man proved to be one of her officers, and was in 

 quest of help. He had made his way up a long 

 hill through the darkness, his wet clothes freezing 

 upon him, and his strength gave way the moment 

 succor was found. Other dwellers in the vicinity 

 were aroused, and with their boats rendered all the 

 assistance possible. The steamer sank but a few 

 yards from shore, only a part of her upper deck 

 remaining above water, yet a panic among the pas- 

 sengers — the men behaving very badly — swamped 

 the boats as they were being filled with the women, 

 and a dozen or more persons were drowned. 



When the river is at its wildest, usually in 

 March, the eagles appear. They prowl about amid 

 the ice-floes, alighting upon them or flying heavily 

 above them in quest of fish, or a wounded duck or 

 other game. 



I have counted ten of these noble birds at one 

 time, some seated grim and motionless upon cakes of 

 ice, — usually surrounded by crows, — others flap- 



