e whistling by with lightning speed; the river
seemed wild with delight, and the waves clapped their hands, leaping
higher and higher; but, _as you know_, (no reflection meant,) Mr.
Editor, a drunken man will get sober if not supplied with more liquor,
so the river will _subside_ if not furnished with the "aqueous fluid."

Colonel Anderson was the first to cross the stream. His horse plunged
in boldly, but was within an ace of being carried away by the still
almost resistless current. There goes "Shoemaker," the easy,
good-natured "Ned," as he is called. Yes, sure enough, there he does
go, for his horse has plunged, and the torrent is too wild, for they
are both beyond their depth, and the horse is going down, down. Every
eye is bent upon "Shoe." He is carried further and further. He grasps
a tree and pulls himself up, looking the picture of despair. The major
says, "H-o-l-d, b-o-y-s! d-o-n't b-e i-n t-o-o m-u-c-h h-u-r-r-y;" but
they, eager to get back, walked a foot-bridge of rough timber and old
logs, very narrow. Several crossed upon this, Captain Russell making a
very narrow escape with his life. Colonel Anderson, perceiving the
danger, ordered that no more should cross, threatening to shoot the
first man who should disobey the order. This, as a matter of course,
was done to deter the men from hazarding their lives needlessly.
Colonel Anderson had but just given the order, when Frank Guhra, a
private in Captain Clark's company, made the attempt, reached the
middle of the stream, lost his balance, fell, and in a moment was
whirled out of sight, the current running at the rate of twenty miles
an hour. Several lost their guns. It was three or four hours before
they succeeded in crossing.

Upon their return to camp an unwelcome sight was presented; the water
had swept nearly every thing away. The tents had been, many of them,
three and four feet in water; some had to take to trees to save life.
The water had subsided, leaving a nasty slime, a foot thick, all over
the camp-ground. Camp-kettles, knapsacks haversacks, and numerous
floatable, light articles, had passed down stream--Captain Wilmington
losing every thing. I saw the Captain trying to borrow a pair of
pantaloons, he running around in his drawers. An old resident of this
locality (Mr. Stonnicker) says this is the biggest flood ever known in
this region. By the by, Mr. Stonnicker has a beautiful daughter, Miss
Delilah, who seems to be fairly "the child of the r