The first tug ripped out the side of the boat, which immediately began to fill with water.
My companion and I jumped upon the nearest rocks that showed their heads above the foam.

Our screams and the shouts of the men brought Lieutenant Hunter and some Indians, who were above on the bank, dashing down to our rescue.

They carried us in their arms to land, while the men worked lustily at fishing up the contents of the boat, now thoroughly saturated with water.
We scrambled up the high bank, in a miserable plight, to join in the general lamentation over the probable consequences of the accident.
"Oh! my husband's new uniform!" cried one, and "Oh! the miniatures in the bottom of my trunk!" sighed another--while, "Oh! the silk dresses, and the ribbons, and the finery!" formed the general chorus.
No one thought of the provisions, although we had observed, in our progress to shore, the barrel of bread and the tub of ice, which Lieutenant Hunter had providently brought for our refreshment, sailing away on the dancing waves.

Among the boxes brought to land, and "toted" up the steep bank, was one containing some loaves of sugar and packages of tea, which I had bought for our winter's supply from the sutler at the post.

The young Indian who was the bearer of it set it upon the ground, and soon called my attention to a thick, white stream that was oozing from the corners.