soon realized that there was no hope of rescue from the shore, and indeed amidst all the excitement of saving or attempting to save the lives of those who had got into the water within reach he had probably been overlooked or possibly his position had been considered hopeless. "At length when the light was commencing to fade Leroux made up his mind to try and reach the island on his left by crawling from one slab of ice to another. He fully realized that if he once got into the water he would never get out, but not being very heavy in those days, and by moving only very slowly and cautiously, and carefully selecting his route he succeeded at last in reaching the unbroken ice near the island. He had one very narrow escape, as a table of ice very nearly turned over on him before he had got sufficiently far on it to keep it flat. Luckily there was a much larger slab just beyond it, on to which he crawled without much difficulty. After crossing the island he again got on to unbroken ice and skated across it, to the shore near the lower bridge. "By that time it was rapidly growing dusk, everybody whom it had been possible to reach with a rope from the shore had been rescued, and all the rest were still and cold beneath the ice. But although Leroux knew that a considerable number of people must have been drowned, until he saw the long list of those who had lost their lives in the next morning's 'Times' he had no idea that the disaster was so serious as it really was." The following reminiscences of Selous as a schoolboy at Rugby were contributed to the 'Meteor,' the Rugby school paper (February 7th, 1917), by Canon Wilson, D.D.:-- "I first heard of Selous some time in 1863, soon after I became a house-master. The master of his preparatory school at Tottenham told me that a Mr. Slous--for so the name was then spelt--was going to enter his son at my house. 'Take my advice,' was the gist of the letter, 'and say your house is full; the boy will plague the life out of you.' I wrote to enquire the nature of the plague. 'He breaks every rule; he lets himself down out of a dormitory window to go birds'-nesting; he is constantly complained of by neighbours for trespassing; he fastened up an assistant master in a cowshed into which he had chased the young villain early one summer morning; somehow the youngster scrambled out, and fastened the door on the outside, so that the master missed morning school.' "Such were his crimes; so, of course, I wrote back and said that he was the boy for me.