In 1850 Mr. S. M. Hamilton, with his wife and four children, after a long journey across the Plains arrived at the Cascades. They were impressed with the towering mountains and beautiful scenery. Here they decided to locate on a donation land claim, which is now known as Hamilton's Island. A comfortable house soon greeted them. Mrs. Hamilton, who is still with us, is a woman of culture and refinement, and many owe their success in life to her loving example and words of cheer; but dark days were hovering around their peaceful home. The terrible news that Indians were lurking to plunder and kill had filled their hearts with terror. Mr. Hamilton had arranged, if the outbreak did occur, that two men were to take charge of the boat, while others were to remain and defend their property. A bateaux lay in readiness. On the morning of the 26th of March, 1856, the dreaded signal sounded, striking terror to the stoutest hearts. Mr. Hamilton hurried to his home, where wife and children were terrified. His first word was "Mary, the Yakima Indians have attacked the men, who were working on the portage railroad, and will soon reach our home. Your only safety is to embark at once, with other families, who are hurrying to reach the boat, their only means of escape." All were now on board except one woman, who was carrying her babe, and running over the rocks as fast as her strength would permit. One of the men who had charge of the boat said "Push out and leave her." Mr. Hamilton placed his hand on the boat, saying, "No, no; never leave man, woman, or child who is in sight." By this time the woman and child were on board; quickly the boat was in the swift current, the occupants were lying on the bottom to escape the whizzing bullets and arrows of the savages, whose demoniacal and blood curdling yells added terror to the mothers' hearts. Picture the agony of those mothers as they were floating away from loved ones and home, listening to the frightful shrieks and rapid shooting of the Indians. For a moment the father watched the receding craft that held all that was dear--dearer than life--not knowing when, or if ever, they would meet again. With upturned face he exclaimed "Oh, God, have mercy and protect the dear ones." A bullet whistled past his head; he raised his trusty rifle, fired, one Indian fell; again and again his rifle was reloaded and fired, each time sure of its mark. That night his house was burned. The Indians were armed with guns and arrows. They killed one woman and her husband; several men were killed; after hours of suspense those in the boat sighted the steamer Fashion. She quickly halted, taking all on board, turned back, reaching Vancouver the following day, where the alarm was sounded, and the steamer hurried on to Portland; there the bells tolling forth called out the citizens, who, on hearing the terrible news began collecting guns and ammunition; the entire population was aroused.