high above the ordinary level of the water, would not probably be
swept away by the ice, at least not till that part of it on which she
was situated should have passed under it. There was an occupied log-house
standing but a short distance from the place, and the owner, as
Woodburn drew near, was, luckily, just making his appearance at the door.

"A rope, a rope! be ready with a rope," shouted Woodburn, pointing to
the scene of trouble, as soon as he could make himself understood by
the wondering settler.

The man, after a hurried glance from the speaker to the indicated
scene, and thence to the bridge below, during which he seemed to
comprehend the nature of the emergency, instantly disappeared within
the door. In another moment Woodburn came up, and burst into the
house, where he found the settler and his wife eagerly running out the
rope of their bedstead, which had been hastily stripped of the bed and
clothing, and the fastenings cut, for the purpose. The instant the
rope was disengaged, was seized by the young man, who, bidding the
other to follow, rushed out of the house, and bounded forward to the
bridge, which they both reached just as the unbroken ice was here
beginning to quake and move from the impulse of the vast body above,
which, now scarcely fifty paces distant, was driving down, with
deafening crash, towards them.

"Thank Heaven, she yet lives, and is nearing us!" exclaimed Woodburn,
as he ran out on to the partially covered beams of the bridge, where
he could obtain a clear view of the channel above.

She is there, hedged in, though as yet riding securely in the midst of
that hideous jam, but, if not drawn up here, will be the next moment