With Axe and Rifle
My father did not turn his head, but keeping his eyes steadily fixed on the landing-place, urged on the horses. They had not got more than half-way over when they began to plunge in a manner which threatened to break the harness. Again my father shouted and applied his whip over their backs; the animals seemed every instant as if about to lose their legs, while the water not only bubbled up through the bottom, but completely flowed over it. To turn round was impossible, not only from the construction of the waggon, but from the pressure of water, and in all probability had the attempt been made an overturn would have been the consequence.
My mother suppressed her fears, but grasped me tighter than ever. Presently I heard a dull roar, and looking up the river I saw a white-crested wave--so it appeared--curling down upon us. My father saw it too. He leapt from the waggon