THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ
short conversation with a man he met there, and then surprised us with the announcement that the omnibus would go no further. He was informed that the ice had cracked very much and we might break through. This was dismal news. Some of my fellow-sufferers grew very emphatic and called the Mississippi opprobrious names. It was a serious matter. To go back to town and wait for the river to clear so that ferries could run, would, at best, mean several days' delay. We had to get over somehow. Was there no way? Standing in the slush of the river bank we held an excited council of war. At last the driver remarked that while the ice might not carry the weight of a loaded omnibus, it would probably be strong enough to carry the weight of single human beings. So we might walk across, and, if we were willing to pay him for it, he would guide us. We agreed. He turned over his omnibus to the friend he had met, with a message to the hotel. Then he procured a fence rail, and, as it was still dark, a lantern. So we, the travelers, grasped our satchels and set out. Our guide carried the fence rail horizontally in his hands, like a rope dancer carrying his balancing pole. He explained to us that if he should break through or slip into a crack, the fence rail, resting on the ice on both sides, would hold him up. We had to follow him single file. The ice was covered several inches deep with water which had oozed up through the cracks; and that water was very cold. Our march could, therefore, hardly have been more uncomfortable. But worse was to come. We had hardly started when snow began to fall in big flakes—there was little wind, but enough to drive the snow in our faces and blind us. Our guide admonished us to keep well within sight of his lantern so as not to get lost. At first the commercial travelers had tried to cheer our misery with some drummer's jokes. But gradually they grew quite silent. Nothing was to be heard but the cracking of the ice,
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