Trapped on the Columbia River Ice

Running ice in a river as broad and deep as the Columbia is not a trifling matter for navigators. T. W. Patterson, a bank cashier of Goldendale, Wash., can testify to this fact, after having had a very trying experience. Mr. Patterson left Goldendale on Monday afternoon, and after a drive of twelve miles by stage coach to a point on the river opposite Grant’s station, on the Union Pacific, found that the ice in the river was running in such quantities that the regular ferry boat did not dare to venture across. It was about 4 o’clock in the afternoon; the wind was blowing a gale, and the snow flying in blinding clouds. Mr. Patterson was in a hurry to reach this city, so he secured an open boat and two strong boatmen to take him across. The stage driver also took a seat in the boat, and the four men, after waiting some time for an open space through the ice, started across. All went well until a point about fifty feet from the south bank was reached, when suddenly they found their further progress retarded by an impassable barrier of shore ice. After trying in vain to break through this mass, which was not strong enough to bear the weight of a man, they attempted to retreat, but, to their amazement, found that a field of ice had surrounded the boat to the rear and was gradually carrying them down stream. The roar of the rapids about a mile below was plainly heard by the imprisoned men. Night was coming on, the snow was falling more heavily, they were becoming chilled through and through, and their shouts for help met with no response. Gradually the boat moved down stream and the men were beginning to lose hope of rescue. Suddenly they heard an answering shout. Looking up they were surprised to see coming toward them down the river bank an Indian astride a cayuse. The little horse was without saddle or bridle and was running at breakneck speed. As they neared the water the Indian, unable to check the onward course of his steed, suddenly swerved to one side and throwing himself from the back of the cayuse, rolled over and over like a rubber ball to the very water’s edge; then picking himself up, he inquired calmly what the trouble was. The men in the boat were not long in acquainting him with the danger of their position. The Indian, who was by that time joined by some of his companions, camped near by, started majestically away, returning in a few moments with some planks and a piece of rope. The planks he laid end to end upon the ice until he was within thirty feet of the boat, then deftly catching a coil of rope thrown to him from the boat, tied to it the piece he had brought and, with the help of his companions, pulled the boat containing the four half-frozen men over the ice barrier and clear out upon the shore.