Evening Star Newspaper, June 9, 1894, Page 19

WINNING HIS STA OR THE ADVENTURES OF PAUL TRAVERS. Written for The Evening Star by Sam Clover. Copyrighted, 1804. Al) rights reserved.) CHAPTER VII1L— Continued. HE LAZARETTE was a dark hole on the deck below the loon cabin, a stuffy compartment where the liquor was stored and where big, gray rats held high revel. Into this dis- mal, illy-ventilated hold Paul was rudely thrust and left ‘to commune with his thoughts, his only Protection against ut- ter darkness being a tallow candle set in a) horn lantern which swung from a beam overhead. >. = Arming himself with a stave to repel un- pleasant boarders, Paul climbed on top of a barrel of rum, and, drawing up his knees, fell to pondering his position. The situation was dubious, he had to con- fess, and the chances for proving his inno- cence appeared slim. With a deep sigh he Teflected that he could not expect his good Tuck to last forever, and must prepare for the other kin|, which he knew was bound to overtake him some time. Of course there was a way of clearing himself, but he instantly rejected the notion of divulg- ‘mg the name of his fair benefactor. Better rats and misery than be guilty of so scurvy @ trick as that, he decided. Ten long, weary hours he passed in the foul-smelling lazarette, with only one caller from the outside world, who left a panni- kin of water and some hard bread for the prisoner's diet. There were plenty of other sallers, though, from within. Big fellows with es and ugly looking feats woaee Teneo hungry looks made Paul's flesh creep. But the vigorous man- ner in which he handled the barrel stave kept the rats at a respectful distance, and as long as the lantern held out to burn he was safe frcm attack. But the candie sank lower and lower in its socket,and Paul's heart was correspond- ingly depressed as the prospect of total darkness insinuated itself. Nerved to des- peration, he began to search around the ‘ezarette and at length discovered three Ghe at First Did Not Recognize Paul. candle stumps tucked away in a crevice, which the rats had been unable to reach, Overjoyed at his find he bore his precious prizes back to the barrel and then grimly Waited while the candle in the lantern slowly melted away. But before it sput- tered out he caught the dying gleam, and in the still rm socket imserted the first of his fresh supply, o times the jone watcher deftly made the transfer of his candle stumps, and Paul could not help thinking that the operation Was a good deal like sitting up with one’s own corpse, But what ncxt? iis last can- dle end was now burning, and only an inch er go remained between him and the horri- ble darkness, He tried to shout, but the ceiling Sung back all sound and showed the futility of his efforts, Then, for the first time sinee leaving home, his nerve failed him, end, burying his face in his hands, the poor boy groaned in misery, Presently a scuffing among the re- fuse at the bawe of the barrel recalled his wandering senses, and, with an exclamation of disgust, Paul awoke to life and renewed Dig, saucy rat that was making desperate leaps to reach the silent figure on the bar- Fei. Just as the candle was expiring and o4d thadows were chasing other around the compartment the door of the lazarette Was thrown back and the bo's'n’s voice allied: “Hello, ad “aye, aye, = wal “Cap'n wants you on a Down two seconds had scrambled up the short steps to the fresher air above. Filling his Iengs as he followed his guide, he presently emerged on the upper deck, where the cool night wind singing through the shrouds sweetest music in his ears. Captain Dearborn received him brusquely but kindly. “Look here, my lad,” he said, “we have found the real thief that broke open the fruit bin, which, of course, ex- onerites you. I have also learned where your supply came from. The young lady has been te see me and explained every- thing. I am sorry thet you were placed in durance. but, as you Know, the evidence Was against you. Now go and turn in and Feport for duty in the morning.” “Very good, sir," replied Paul, somewhat mystified. “But. if you will excuse me, captain, surely Miss Eth—that is—you don’t mean to say the young lady is the culprit?” end bis looks of consternation were a ‘The skipper broke into a hearty laugh. “Well, no, hardly that. Perhaps it is only fair to tell you that some of the passengers —two of the circus troupe, in fact—drank more wine than waz good for them last night, and in a crazy freak looted the fruit bin. They very generously owned up to it ‘when they learned one of the crew had been charged with the theft. Then came the young lady to tell of her share in forging the chain of evidence, after which I sent| for you at once. Better say nothing abou this,” he added, as Paul stepped back to: ward the “The bo's'n will explain that you are innocent.” “All right, sir, I'll remember,” returned Paul. saluting as he withdrew. But as he walked slowly toward the fo'c: he thought a little earch for ean- the light should fail: and sharp teeth of ustness of it all. Then be turned in; but his sleep was truu- | bled, for a procession of monster rats chas- ed across his pillow all night long: CHAPTER IX. Of course no more fruit from the cabin table found its way into the fo’castle. Even if the inclination remained the opportunity was lacking, for a spell of bad weather suc- ceeded the long, unbroken run of pleasant sailing, rendering the deck anything but at- tractive to the ers. Once only Paul and the rosy-cheeked Eng- lass met before Auckland was sighted. It -was after a steady downpour lasting twenty-four hours, which had kept every- immured below deck. Chafing under the gonfinement, the girl had slipped on her London goloshes, donned her mackintosh, 2nd stolen out of the stuffy saloon for breath of fresh air above. She passed Paul as he crouched under the iee of the port Mfeboat, and at first did not recognize the young sailor clad in dripping cilskins, who tcuched the brim of his sou-wester as she scudded along. “Oh, dear, is that you—Paul?’ she stam- mered, with a pretty hesitancy. “I have so wanted to see you. I think it was just splerdid in you not to tell. I did not hear ef the broken frult bin until long past dit ner time, and then only by the merest ac- efdent learned that you were suspected and had been put in that horrid lazarette. I felt sure you hadn't said a word to Capt. Dearborn about my giving you the fruit, cious, how he scolded me,” she exclaimed, with an expresive shrug. “But I din’t mind that, for he promised to send the bo's'n to get you Instantly. He told me the circus men had just owned up to what they had done, but said I itn't say anything about it, as it was a foolish piece of business. Did he tell you I had talked with him?" “Yes, indeed, and’—here Paul looked rather foolish—“do you know I came near making a horrible blunder? The captain hadn't said a word about the circus fellows, but after telling me the real culprit had been found he remarked that you had called on him and ¢onfessed everything. Well, for a minute I thought he meant you had committed the burglary. You should have heard him laugh when I declared it was impossible. Then he explained more clearly and sent me off to my quarters. But it was very good of vou to go to him, Miss Ethel,” declared Paul, earnestly, “and 1 bave anxiously looked for a chance to tell you how deeply I appreciate your goodness." “Nonsense,” she retorted. “It would have been despicable had I kept silent, and I should have hated myself ever after. It ts I, not you, that am indebted, and I shall never, never, forget it." Then, with char- acteristic impulsiveness, she held out both hands toward Paul, and after leaving them in his firm grasp for a brief moment, sud- denly snatched them loose and darted away into the mist and, as he felt, out of his life forever. As was natural Paul had come in contact with quite a number of the circus people since his advent “before the mast,” from the “main guy,” as the proprietor was known, down to the humblest animal at- tendant. The knowledge that the troupe in- tended to make a tour of New Zealand be- fore visiting ney mainiand of Australia had filled him with a strong desire to see the islands also. To hire out to the circus in some <apacity had been his fixed purpose from the day they left Honolulu, but until the frult-bin incident he had been unable to get any encouragement. His manly attitude on that occasion was bruited around among the troupe,and proved an open sesame to the jolly irish-Ameri- can who controlled the Great American Consolidated Arenas. Word came to Paul Soon after that if he happened to be in the vicinity of the show grounds when the big tent went up at Auckland he would be taken care of by the marager. ‘To quit the ship at Auckland was his firm resolve. The little bulldog continued to Make things so unpleasant for him that at times he felt wicked enough to steal up be- hind his tormentor and push him over- beard. Luckily he always managed to re- sist this inclination, but after each fresh indignity he was more than ever deter- nines to break away at the first opportu- nity. Perhaps the second mate divined the in- tention of the young sailor, for as the ship steamed into Auckland harbor, he orderad tie bo's'n’s mate to keep his weather eye on the tad, who, having signed articles for Sydney, was amenable to discipline if de- tected ‘nan atiempt to “jump the ship.” One of the saliors in the port watch chancing to overhear the mate's instruc- tions warned Paul to be on tae iookout and suggested that he throw the’ little bull- dog off the scent by waiting until all the paraphernalia of the circus was unloaded on the wharf before he made a move. ‘This advice was so good that Paul concluded to profit by it, so instead of trying to steal away the first night, as he originally in- tended, he turned out next morning at day- light to bear a hand in unloading and for the rest of the day worked aimost under the nose of bis persecutor. ‘The ruse was successful. His suspicions luiled, the little butidog relieved the bo's'n's mate from further espiorage, and that very night Paul slung his valise over his shoulder, sPinned down a rope that hung over the vessel's side, dropped like a cat on the wharf, and quietly disappeared in the direc- tion of the town. : Snagiy hidden in a convenient lodging house, which commanded a view of the shipping, Paul did not venture forth until the City of Sydney had cast off her moor- ing ropes and was steaming out into the ocean sgain. Then, safe from all pursuit, he quickly made way to the circus grounds, where the “boss” canvasman was marking out the pins for the big tent. “Hello, Chicago!” was the greeting he re- ceived, “how did you manage to break away?” “French leave,” returned Paul, laconic- “Want to go to work?” “Sure thing.” “Grab a sledge, then, and join that gang ever yonder; you'll get all the exercise you Wart with this outfit.” ‘aul eelected a light sledge-hammer from the pile indicated, and, slinging it across his shoulder, trudged to the north end of the grounds, where five men, under the di- rection of the assistant boss canvasman, a tall, freckled-faced young fellow called “Redney,” were driving stakes. Redney grinned as the lad approached. “Made it all right, didn’t ye?” he said. 7 git a move on yer and edge in ere.” The gang widened and made a space for the newcomer. Circled around a fresh stakepin the first man tapped it into an upright position, after which each hammer fell in rapid sequence untii the billet was driven home, and, Redney calling “Belay,” the squad passed on to the next pin. This was Paul's introduction to circus life. It was some days before he became adept at slinging a sledge, and many a time he missed the pin and broke the continuity of blows by coming down on his neighbor's hammer. But he had been putting on muscle down in the hold of the City of Syd- ney and bis hard labor there now served him an excellent turn. The boss canvasman was right when he told Paul he would get ail the exercise he | wanted. The canvas hands were worked | lise horses and treated with even less con- sideration than ts usually accorded dumb animals. The majority, however, were but little better than brutes. A drinking, thieving lot of men, homeless, friendiess and destitute of any self-respect, with a sprinkling of the greatest rascals that ever cheated justice. For weeks they had awaited the coming of the circus, which had been extensively billed in advance, and the tougher the applicant the more likelt- hood of his being employed. This was the sort of society in which Paul mingled for the next ten days follow- ing his advent with the show. But in the second week of his engagement the prop- erty man charced to take a fagcy to Paul's active figure, and with the consent of the $$ canvasman the lad transferred his allegiance to the “dressing room,” where he came into more intimate relations with the stars of the arena—the leapers, tum- blers, bareback riders, clowns, contortion- ists, trapeze performers and conjurers, The “dressing room” was a wall tent, a trifle the worse for wear, divided into two compartments by a strip of canvas, on either side of which the male and female members of the troupe disrobed and “made up” for the ring. Across this flimsy bar- rier the star actors flung jokes and ex- changed repartee during the process of dressing, and in one corner of the tent Paul was initiated into the secret of balloon making—those flat, tissue-paper, circus af- fairs with which every American boy and gir! is so familiar, His ship name stuck to him. He was “Chicago” to everybody from the day he hired out to the show, and as “property boy” he was at the beck and call of every one that had the run of the dressing room. But in spite of the drudgery, the snubs and indignities, Paul actually enjoyed the new condition of things. This was seeing ‘ife in earnest, and if being behind the sce took away much of the glamour of th ring, it added largely to the lad’s experi- | ence. | Paul possessed the happy faculty of for- getting unpleasant things quickly, saw and heard a great deal that was not | calculated to elevate him either mentally or morally during the three months he traveled with the circus, and yet it is | doubtful if his sense of right and wrong was in the slightest degree blunted by his temporary affiliation with the show pecpie, ‘The troupe remained nearly three weeks at Auckland, with audiences packed clear to | the ring. The day before the circus was to sail for Wellington Paul was taken with a raging headache, and by the time the night so I went to see him immediately. Gra-| G@ STAR, Performance was over he was burning up with a fever. Heroic doses of quinine served to check the latter, but the pain in his head continuing, some one suggested a dose of chloral, which the lad swallowed unquestioningly. Tarough a stupid blunder on the part of the chemist the quantity given was largely in excess of the regulation amount, so that next day when the Rotomahana was ready to sail his circus friends carried Paul on board still unconscious. Of that short voyage along the New Zealand coast to the capital of the North Island the poor boy knew nothing, nor had he recovered his senses when the troupe disembarked at Wellington. There were subdued voices in the room ad- jacent when Paul finally awoke to a con- sciousness of his surroundings. He lay perfectly still for a long time trying to de- cide where he was end by what means he had reached quarters so unfamiliar. The room was evidently in a hotel, that was apparent from the meager appointments. Had the troupe left him behind at Auckland, or was this Wellington? If the latter, how did get there? Still drowsy from the effects of the drug, he closed his eyes and was drifting away again when the door between the two rooms was pushed open and a female voice, which he recognized, recalled his wonder- ing senses. “Isn't it singular, Jenny, that the boy doesn’t wake up? Dick called in a doctor to see him, and he said there was no dan- ger, but I declare I don’t like the looks of it, do you?" “Why, it is queer,” assented the other, whom Paul knew as one of the lady riders, “but why wasn’t he left at Auckland, Fanny?” “Oh, Dick took a fancy to him. He said it was a shame to leave him behind among strangers, so he guaranteed to stand all expenses and asked the ‘old man’ to let him come along with us. Just look at the boy’s face, Jen; he’s from a pretty good family, I know. Wonder why he left his home?” “Yes, and haven’t you noticed how well he tall too. The boys say he ran away from his folks to go around the world. Do you s’pose they have any idea where he is? What's his real name, Fanny?” “Paul Travers, I believe; his people lve in Chicago. Dick found a letter from the boy’s father and he says he'll write to the old gentleman if the young one doesn’t get better soon. No use scaring him, though, without any need for it.” The door was closed, and the voices be- came inaudible. Thoroughly awake, Pan! recollected with a sensation of relief that he had matied two letters home the second | day after reaching Auckland. He felt very thankful that Dick had not yet written to bis father. Dick Baxter, or, as he appeared on ‘the circas bills, “Leonard Trevylian,” the wire- iope bicycle rider, was one of the star at- tractions. His wife did a clever “manege act” also, besides singing in the concert at the close of the regular performance. He had gone out of the way on one or two pre- vious occasions to do Paul a good turn, and --* Senk in 8 Newreless Heap. now, it appeared, he was instrumental in bringing him Wellington. A single salty tear fell on his cheek as Paul dwelt on this last kindness to an almost tota) stranger. Thinking of it helped him to throw off the lethargy, and wita a great effort he opened his eyes again and sat up in_ bed. He was only partially undressed. His hat, coat and shoes lay on a chair by the washstand. Nerving himself to the at- tempt, Paul crawled out of bed and started across the uncarpeted floor to reach them. But he had overestimated his powers, the 100m spun before his eyes and he sank in a rerveless heap just as the hall door opened, and his friend Dick, entering, ‘exclaimed: “What are you trying to do, kid?” Get up,” murmured the boy. “Yes; well, don’t be in too much of a sweat,” as the playfully sarcastic re- sponse. “You sneak back into bed again until you've had a square meal inside of you. D’ye know ow long you've been asleep?” “I can’t imagine,” returned Paul, drop- ping thankfully across the foet of the bed, “but I know you have been very kind to me." ‘Ok, pshaw! that’s nothing. But what do yvu think of sleeping seventy-two hours at a stretch without waking once? That’s the kind of a trick you've been up to.” “Seventy-two hours without waking,” Paul repeated in bewilderment. “Is it pos- sible?” Then after a minute's thought he exclaimed: “Ah! It must have been the medicine they gave me. It was too strong, I guess.” “Well, yes, rather,” said Dick, dryly. “Took enough to put the big elephant Queenie to sleép. Lucky thing you had a good constitution or it's good-bye, Mister Chicago, that trip.” Paul smiled feebly and again expressed his gratitude to his good friend for what he had done. But Dick cut short further remarks by hastening down stairs to order a bowl of beef tea and other nourishing food for his patient. Paul's recovery was rapid. Two days later was back at the circus filling his former assignmeut of balloon-making and in a week had fully regained his accus- tomed strength. One morning, about three days after the Wellington engagement expired, Paul found the ringmaster fretting under a bad dilem- ma. Dick Baxter, the bicycle rider, whose act was billed as one of the star perform- ances, was suddenly attacked by typhoid fever, and a substitute had to be procured in order to keep faith with the colonials. In this case it was not so easy to provide an understu¢y, as the bicyclist’s act was to ride across ire rope stretched from pole to pole some forty or fifty feet above the ring. The grooved wheel he sat was held in po- sition by two trapeze performers, whose combined weight maintained the equilib- rium of the machine. It was Dick's cus- tom, when the center of the ring was reached, and amid the breathless suspense of the audience, to stand on his head on the saddle of the wheel, the gymnasts preserv- ing a rigid immobility below durmg the Progress of the thrilling scene. Aside from this daring feat it was not much of a trick to work the treadles, but it required considerable nerve to climb to that height and calmly submit to the jars and joltings of the trapeze performers, whose gyrations swayed the fragile wheel clear out of perpendicular every time they moved. In vain the ringmaster begged and bullied the leapers and tumblers to essay the feat. Each one he adjured flatiy refused to en- tertain the proposition for a minute, al- though, as he explained, he did not expect them to stand on their heads, but simply to ride the wheel. Finally one of the leap- ers jokingly cried: “Why don’t you ask ‘Chicago’ to do It? He's used to going aloft.” The ringmaster in despair turned to him. “How is 1s Chicago; do you want to ride the wheel for me until Dick gets well?” “I wouldn’t mind trying it, sir, on one condition. “What's that?” “If you'll agree to pay Dick his salary right along.” * The ringmaster thought a minute. “T’ll do it," he said. ‘‘We’re going to move Dick to @ private hospital this afternoon, and his wife will stay behind to nurse him until he is able to join us. He shall be taken care of all right.” “It’s a.go then; I'll try it,” was Paul's quiet response. “Very good; we'll have a rehearsal in an hour, or as soon as the stallions have been worked. Meantime you and the Kelseys talk it over.” The Kelseys were brother and sister. ‘They were the two who performed on the trapeze, which, affixed to the wheel, hung below the wire rope. Both assured the lad there wasn’t a particle of danger if he kept cool and that all he had to do was to sit firmiy In the saddle and work the treadies while they did their “act” underneath. They explained how was to get on the wheel after they were in position, their weight insuring the perpendicularity of the machine and reducing the danger to a mini- mum. For Jike reasons he was to get off first when the performance was over, and stand on the platform, so they could descend toggther to receive the plaudits of the relieved audience in proper style. When the hour had expired Paul was ready to make’ the trial trip, and, wearing a pair of borrowed canvas shoes, he stepped into the arena, where the ringmaster anx- jously awaited his coming. (To be continued.) SATURDA 9, 1894-TWENTY PAGES. RIVER AND RAIL How Spring Freshets Play Havoc + With Railroad Lines, DESTRUCTIVE L0G BOOM Little Chance of Protection From Water and Debris. RACING WITH THE FLOOD ELL, OLD BOY, this has been the toughest spring I have ever experi- enced.” ‘These words were vttered by a young * railroad engineer, as he alighted from a western train in the 6th street depot, and were directed at a reporter of The Bven- ing Star. The young man had been up in Penrsylvania doing his share toward straightening out the partly demoralized system that skirts the banks of the Sus- quehanna and Juniata rivers, and he) showed the effets of wear and tear among water and mud, “You know the Potomac behaved pretty decently this spring, and, as I had no work to do down here, they drafted me into the ranks to help out up in Pennsylvania, But the Potomac at its worst does not enter in- to a comparison with the Pennsylvania rivers. The Potomac when on a tear brings down brushwood and perhaps an occasional bridge, but those rivers up in: the keystohe state will carry on their angry bosoms all the way from a hen coop filled with chick- ens to iron bridges and complete saw mill outfits. “You know I made my debut in .this business in 1890, continued the young railroad engineer, “and, of course, missed | the great 1889 flood, but outside of Johns- | town itself I believe the damage done will foot up equally as much as in the latter year. Both the Susquehanna and Juniata rivers have become quite compressed in width at different places, owing to the de- velopment of the many towns along their banks, and in dry weather present the most peaceful scenes imaginable. But when the heavy rains come it is simply impossible to calculate to what distance they will spread out. Old railroad men up there tell me that parts of the road that would be flooded, say, about every five years, are now under water almost every spring or fall. This is brought about, they claim, through the dumping of furnace refuse into the river, and in many places building out immense piers to accommodate the travel to the entrance of new bridges. This is particularly noticeable up around Harrisburg, where our road was under three feet of water for many miles. This stretch of road was under water [or the first time in 1889, and since then is inundated | frequently. I believe the river at that point has been contracted full a half mile, and, of course, when you try to confine a flood | within narrow iimits something has to give way, and fin this case it is generally the banks of our railroad. Breaking of Log Booma. “Another feature of Pennsylvania floods which you people down here cannvt com- prehend ts the breaking of log booms and the great damage done by this sort of flood debris. Just imagine, if you can, hun- dreds of millions of feet of logs coming down a stream in a solid mass at the rate of fifteen miles an hour. They are simply irresistible, I have seen large saw milis crushed together like a person could crush a small paper box in his hands. Several of our large granite piers, that one would think could stand everything but dynamite, have had large blocks of stone knocked out of them by these logs, and they shake the bridges so that one could havdly keep on his feet. The custom of using public streams as common carriers and storage basins for timber has {ts inconvenience and dangers. The raftsmen have always been the enemy of other navigators. Their rafts are an unstable obstacle to free navigation, and in spite of extreme circumspection. are a frequent cause of collision and destruc- tion. This* logging business in ordinary times hurts no one, but when floods come the escaped logs become a battering ram of tremendous power and increase tenfold the natural destructiveness of the flood water. In fact, the percentage of destruc- tion done by the logs is about 65 per cent to 35 by water. “I went up into the district before the flood began in anticipation of the event and took tn the situation from a point a ort distance below Williamsport, on the West branch, and was an eye-witness of the devastation caused by the uncontrolled timber from the broken boom. It is a mys- tery to me why the people in that locality do not enter a strong protest against the lumbermen of the upper Susquehanna, as they are below them on the stream and have to foot the bills caused by the logs breaking loose. The lumber interest of the state iy a very great one and it would be folly to embarrass those engaged in it by restrictions that would appreciably in- crease the first cost of the product. But the principle that each should use his own s0 as not to harm his neighbor is as ap- plicable to lumbermen as others. Their practice of loosely confining millions of feet of logs in a boom which {is bound to snap and set the logs free at every extra- ordinary rise of water entails periodic heavy loss upon themselves, which it ts to their interest to avoid If they can, Every other river interest is vitally concerned in securing protection from this periodic as- sault of logs, which crush nearly every- thing in their path. Blame the Railroad Men. “If a railroad man up in that region gives vent to his feelings in the matter he is immediately charged with being on the lockout for new business for his road, and that he wants to haul the logs to their des- tination at so much a foot, whereas the river transports them free. They ‘cannot understand that the freight charges we would derive from the transportation of the logs would be a mere bagateile when put in ccmparison with the loss they intlict upon our road when once their property gets on | a rampage. A spring flood in the rivers up | in Pennsylvania always finds those power- | ful streams loaded. The moving timber, | ptshed forward by the accumulated waters | behind, is almost an irresistible engine of destruction. Tne boom itself holds back | the waters for a time, adding to the over- | flow which makes the escaped current 80 | full of terror. A river on the rampage is/| bad enough in all sense without carrying | before it a solid rampart of logs. “I shall never forget the sight of the on- coming logs as I stood on a point below Williamsport from which I could take in the main channel of the stream. We had | been working hard all day loading down cur bridge with freight cars and iron of all descriptions to prevent it being carried away. The rapid current, surging, swish- ing and roaring, bore upon its angry crest logs, huge timbers, piles, buildings, sec- tions of bridges and property of ‘every description conceivable. An iron bridge at the main street of the city, a huge structure of five spans, was the first to fall a prey. Great piles of lumber battered it down with as much ease as thou:,h it had been straw. Span after span tottered and fell, and so thick was the floating wealth of the lum- bermen that vast iron girders were held aloft, and in several cases spans were car- ried away bodily on top of the floating lum- ber. One span of this iron bridge came down toward us perched high and dry on the lumber piles, and the many tons of iron were hurled against our bridge only to be | hurled back and sunk a shapeless mass. | ‘The success of our bridge in withstanding the fury of the flood is considered remark- able. It is a long wooden structure which spans tlie river at the east end of the city. From daylight last Monday a week until long after dark it was the target of every- thing that floated by, but it resisted every assault, and still stands the pride of every railroat man in that section. The outside covering of the bridge was torn off and many ¢f the timbers battered out of shape. The cars we had run on the bridge showed evidence of the trying times they had gone through in the shape of scars that were given by the timbers that came up from the | bottom in the mad attempts of the raging | waters to lift the structure from its posi- tion. After the flood had subsided and for the Past week I have been over our road, both on the west branch and the Juniata valley, and I must say that could the road speak it would surely remark that ft had been in a tht and came out second best. Great Damage Done. “You know, our road up in the West Branch district skirts that stream for miles and miles, and in many places high stone abutments have had to be built so as to Permit the road to skirt a hill instead of tunneling through it. These abutments had pieces torn out of them in many places and resembled an enlarged bite out of a pie. The logs would come down with terrific force and simply wade right through the stone and mortar. Then the water would follow up the attack and eat out the stone anc dirt filling behind the wall, re- quiring hundreds of car loads of stone and dirt to fill up the hole. That kind of work was repeated all along the line, and you can imagine the time and expense required to repair damage of this kind. “Up through the Juniata vailey we have bridges by the dozen, and while compara- tively few of these were carried away, the embankments on both sides were eaten out by the waters, and in many places the rails and ties were left suspended in the air. The Juniata has also been transgressed up- cn by hundreds of abutments and other ob- structions, and the fi there was un- doubtedly increased by this state of things. Of course, there was a great flood of water from the heavens, but the Juniata, with its original bed undisturbed, could hardly have caused so much damage. Of course, the railroad is a transgressor in this matter, much more so than arybody else. Up around Johnstown, on our main line, the havoc was almost as bad as in 1889, but we soon set things right by working night and day, and the road, through its entire length, is now in first-class shape again. How Some Make Money. “One point in this logging business on the Susquehanna aptly illustrates the old say- ing that what is one man’s funeral is an- other man’s wedding. When the logs come down the river by the thousands the river- men along shore gather them in, and if the company that own the logs wish to recover them they have to pay so much per foot. One man that owns an island up near Har- risburg has about 50,000 feet of logs on his land. He will advertise the fact, as the law prescribes, and is bound to make a nice | Sum either by direct sale or the company recovering their property. The same state of things exists down around Port Deposit and Havre de Grace, and of course this class of people will hardly favor the aboli- tion of rafting on that river. “During the progress of the flood It would have been strange indeed if many thrilling incidents had not occurred. In my locality they were transpiring so rapidly that many have escaped my memory. One case in par- ticular will remain in my memory, as I took a small part in it. I had been sent with several men up to Lock Haven, the next important city above Willlamsport, to collect cars and freight to place on the big wooden bridge I have been telling you about at the latter city. The river was rising rap- idly when we were ready to pull out, and it was a mighty risky job to pilot that train along the edge of that flood. It was about 1 o'clock at night and the darkness was almost thick enough to cut, as the rain was coming down in torrents. “My party had clambered up on the cars and the engineer had received orjers that the track was clear and to make the best t:me possible under the circumstances, ‘Those orders sult me,’ sang out ‘Jerry’ Lawler, the engineer, as he jumped into the little cab, ‘and I think T can do the distance ata forty-mile clip easy.’ “We pulled out at a brisk pace, but the rails were slippery, and steam hard to make. Fiftcen heavily-laden cars were behind the engine and it was no easy job to make her cut the wind. Fverything went well until we struck a little station about ten miles above Williamsport, called Nisbet, whereat a small crowd of onlookers had gathered. As we pulled up to the little telegraph cabin ‘Jerry’ saw the operator waving a paper, the bright Hght from the open door out- lining his figure against the darkness lke {> white chalk mark en a blackboard. There Just in Time. “‘Something’s up,’ called out ‘Jerry,’ as he slackened up his engine and got down on the step to grab the message. “T heard the little operator sing out. “Pull her wide open,’ as ‘Jerry’ grabbed the ittle white piece of paper, and the engi- neer, without looking at the missive, gave the throttle a vicious tug, and the engine straightened the train out Mke a thing of life, and on we sped. After the tug at the throttle, ‘Jerry’ unfolded the little piece of paper, which read: ““The boom has broken, If you don’t get your train on the bridge it will be swept away.” “What a message for a thoroughbred en- gineer! I noticed ‘Jerry's’ mouth twitch as he read the ‘age, and a guttural sound came from hi Trost. This was al) the in- dication he gave that he understood and could read between the lines. Then he set to work on his engine. Two sharp blasts of the whistle resulted in a signal from the rear end of the train that all was right, and the next instant we were on a two-mile downgrade. ‘Jerry’ never ‘shut his engine off for a minute and we did the distance at a terrific rate of speed. To add to our ex- citement we imagined we could see the jam of logs In the distance, coming down the river with resistless force, and that was the object we had to beat out in the race for the bridge. “In many places the water had already reached the track ahead of us, and the right-hand rail at different points was under water several inches. By this time we were simply fiying through space. Here and there along the line we would pass groups of track men, and we received a cheer of encouragement as we . At last the welcome lights of WilNamsport came in- to view, and as ‘Jerry’ shut off his engine I was confident we had won the race, and we had by fifteen minutes. We got the cars on the bridge in good time, and also placed additional tveights by the time the great mass of logs arrived. The time sheet in the rallroad office showed that we had done the ten miles in fourteen minutes, which was simply remarkable under the circum- stances." —_—————__ THE PHANTOM LOCOMOTIVE. Singular and Weird Experience of = Union Pacific Engineer. From the San Francisco Call. “Did you ever hear of a phantom loco- motive?” inquired one of tne old-time Union Pacific engineers of a number of his associates who were relating thelr expe- riences and hairbreadth escapes a few days ago. All the men, who have grown gray at the throttle, admitted this was a rew on? on them, and the old-timer pro- cceded. “Back in the '70s the Union Pacific ran an engine called the ‘pusher’ on the west side of Shermsn hill to assist the trains up between Laramie and the summit. After heiping a train up the hill the engine would rum back to Laramie. “I was in charge of an engine pulling the regular passenger train up the hill one gray morning. Just as we neared the snowshed that used to stand at Harney s'ding an engine ayy Popped out in front of us. Before I had time to even get a square look at her she disappeared in the shed and was lost to view. The whole thing happened so suddenly that 1 was dumfounded, but I was positive I had seen an engine, and so was my fireman. I at once shut off and the train came to a standstill. The conductor came over and asked what was the metter. ‘Bill,’ said I, ‘I Just saw an engine pop out of that snow- ehed and jest as suddenly disappear again.” “Are you positive,’ said the knight of the punch, and he peered up the t: and I asserted I was. ‘We had better move on, anyhow, and if you see one it will probabiy keep out of our way. “So we proceeded up the hill, keeping careful watch for the mysterious engine which mad2 my heart jump into my throst as she emerged from that snow shed. The siding was reached, but there was no sign of an engine threatening us with a head- end collision. The trainmen laughed at me, and said I must have seen a spirit. Had it not becn for the fact my fireman sided with me I doa’t know but that I should have given up and admitted I was mis- taken. “A careful watch failed to reveal any sign of the etray engine, and when we stopped at Sherman all the trainmen had a hearty laugh at my expense. But I was still positive and insisted on making a hunt, and we found an engine hid away in the little roundhouse located at that point. “The engineer was a man named Jordan. He Lad overlooked a new time card and had started to take his engine back to Laramie after helping a freight up to the summit. He could see the headlight of our engine before he mere tage — snow shed. This accounted for his sudden disappear- ance. His engine was almost stopped when he came out, and it did not take him long to get to going back up the hill again at a lively rate. The engineer thought we did not see him, and he would just hide in the round house at Sherman and no one would be the wiser for his little escanad “We did not report him, but the officials learned of the incident in séme manner and his head went into the basket.” LANDS UNDER WATER Miles of Reclaimable Swamps in the Eastern Section. PRODUCTS FROM OVERPLOWED LANDS The Remarkable Work of Draining the Florida Everglades. A QUESTION OF SOILS —_———__ Writtea for The Evening Vh Star, HERE IS REASON to fear that Con- sress may grant the erid lands of this country to the states in bulk, thus repeat- ing the mistake that has caused so much trouble with swamp! . lands. A division of | the Interior Depart- ment has been en- gaged in adjusting | claims for overflowed | Jands for the last forty-three years, and the end of the work is not in sight. Up to date Uncle Sam has patented 57,000,000 acres of swamps out of ‘90,000,000 acres claimed. Claims for aboui} 9,000,000 acres are pending now. The tracts concerned include the Everglades of Fiori- da, the area of which is estimated at 3,000,- 000 acres. It has not been possible to pat- ent the Evergiades because they have never been surveyed and cannot be accurately de- scribed. They include many ‘slands and even hills, which cannot be considered as swamp lands or patented as such. The location and extent of these patches are not known; otherwise it would be possible to patent the whole of that great overflowed wilderness from its exterior borders. The necessary explorations are likely to be wade before long. Meanwhile the outer margin of the Ever- glades » being patented as fast as it is re- claimeo. The watery wild is growing stead- ily smaller, owing to draining operations on its borders and elmo to the fact that the streams flowing into it are being cut off and used by farmers for irrigation. Owing to similar causes lakes in various parts of the United States have been gradually dry- ing up. In Wisconsin and Minnesota thou- sands of small lakes have gone dry within the last few years, the water that formerly supplied them being utilized for agriculture. A question has arisen as to whether these lake beds should be regarded as swamp lands, and Congress has been appealed to for a decision on this point. Everglades Described, ‘The wilderness called the Everglades is & vast lake of fresh water, 100 miles long by 60 to 80 miles wide, ordinarily unruffied by a ripple. It is studded with myriads of islands of all shapes and sizes. The water yee is necessary to them. Their roots jev and their seeds sprout in the Sa eae whicl be flooded periodically.” naan What Are Swamp Lands. The work of the swamp land division ot the Interior Department is to determine what are swamp lands and what are not. Those lands decided to be such are patent- ed to the states. Lands overflowed to such to be unfit for cultivation without the employment of artificial means are swamp lands in law. The unit of arca is forty acres. If the greater part of the forty acres is overflowed the; swamp Jands, and vice versa. ‘The wera fused to extend the swamp colleges, public institutions, etc. The state Qppoints an agent to select suitable tracts, and its are granied if nobody's te are interfered with. In the public states individuals d: to obtain pos- vow 3 under a homestead law. ~3 torship of saline springs was gran’ the government to several states, the ex- pectation being that they would be valua- ble for salt production. They have not roved so, however, and the newer states ve not ashed for simijar Swamp soils form part of a which the Department of Agri bas Tecently been making to illustrate the vari- ous soil formations of the agricultural re~ gions of the United States. The collection in the United States, only requiring water to make them fruitful. ‘The object of making the collection is to determine the conditions which adapt cer tain solis to the production of particular crops. For example, why is it that early Vegetables can be grown to such advantage in light sandy soiis, maturing four to six weeks earlier than in heavier lands? reason for this is simply that the soil is very porous and dry. The gardener in his green house ripens his flowering plants quickly by withholding moisture them. Vegeta~ bles are 2 in the same way. few years ago the truck lands runni along the shore of the Chesapeake to Norfolk were worth only about $1 an acre; now that their value for this purpose hes been ascer- — they sell for from $200 to $500 an if : QF oe Row believed that the producti Soll depends mainly not on the it contains, but on its texture, moisture and heat are regulated. ity of tobacco is largely influenced by texture of the soll ‘The bright tobacco of North brings such a that are very lands, before tobacco was considered 80 worth mentioning. used for ‘Water and heat the development and chief function of Tlant food, but to cal ame it of crpanic un Patch of earth will make it almost imper- vVicus to water. plied to a thick clay to flow through it more nure contains very little plant ae well Fh Pe greatly assist e production of crops. giving out of @ soil means that a change in ze Viti | [ is fresh, pure, limpid, and from one to six |!ts texture has taken pi fect deep. A deposit of decayed vegetable The collection referred to includes queer sotls. For example, there are Kansas, matter, representing the accumulation of|samples of volcanic ash from ages, is spread over the bottom. Beneath from the shallow bottom to a height of ten| canoes of Kani feet above the surface. grains of which under the microscope are teen to contain «mall drops of water and specimens of kal oil from Colocasia, The word “everglades” is a corruption of | formed where there is not sufficient “rivergiades,” the original been given by the English. This wild soli- name having|to wash out the alkalis which are contin= ually forming in all soils from the disinte- tude, at present inhabited by no human | gration of mineral matters. Other being, omy needs to be drained in order to| are from the so-called “gumbo” lands of be capable of sustaining a population of|New Mexico and Kansas, which are too 250,000. It obtained additional interest from | stiff to be good for anything; 2lso from the the fact that it is the only bit of semi-trop- | adobe lands of New Mexico, which are ical territory over which the flag of the| fertile In that region houses are very made of Union waves, The project of reclaiming the| adobe. The best tobacco lands of Maryland vast overflowed lands ef southern Florida|are a diatomaceous“earth, so light that It bas been under discussion for the last fifty | will float in water. It remained, however, for an asso- The purpose of this investigation of rofl years. ciation of Philadelphia capitalists to carry | 's to find out conditions of peculiar value, the enterprise into practice. One feature of | and to mark out other lands of similar the work accomplished by them has been | Properties. For example, the bright the bailing out of Lake Okeechobee, a great | 0f North Carolina is grown on soll that is sheet of water fifty miles long by thirty| Similar to the pine barrens miles wide to the north of the Everglades. Lake Okeechobee receives the whole Grainage of central Florida. level having been lowered by digging ditch- es to carry off ite water, the tendency has beet to dry up vast areas of ES. over- flowed lands to the northward. process has been assisted by connecting a chain of small lakes with ditches in such a manner as to drain off their waters into the great jake. Thus thousands of square miles of hitherto useless territory are being rapidly transformed into a garden. Eventually Lake Okeechobee will be joined to the At- of southera Maryland. The inference is that the pine barrens, which now are idle deemed Its surface | ¥orthless, might be utilized to produce to- . Many tracts adapted for the pro- duction of early vegetables are now un- used; they will be pointed out. All euch in- formation will be plotted on maps, which Will be issued by the department from time to time for the benefit of farmers. Thus peo- ple will be tenant, where to buy land fom Gefinite purposes and what crops to . RENE BACHE. ——-_____ Seein’ Things. lantic ocean by a canal 300 feet wide and | From the Chicago Record. twelve feet deep, which will pour its into the sea. of thy e is _con- siderably above that of the ocean. It is | an’ thi estimated that the canal will cost $2,000,000, Using the Reclaimed Land. ‘ere required to transform them into dry land by draining their water off into Lake Okeechobee, and thence into the sea. The great canal will make 900 square miles available for agriculture. The reclaimed land {s a vegetable mold of wonderful rich- ness, many feet in depth. It is easily dug with the steam dredges. Ditches will before long checkerboard the land, which will be broken for planting by steam plows drawn back and forth across the fertile acres by engines on board of boats puffing slowly along canals on both sides of the fields. This method of plowing costs about one- fourth as much as mule power. Much of the land, entirely worthiess a few years ago, is now valued at $300 an acre. Garden truck and rice are raised on it, but its future prospects lie in sugar production. It yields from two to three tons of sugar per acre. In fact, there is here a region that is destined some day to produce more sugar than is now grown in Cuba. Assisted by sugar beet farming in more northern lati- tudes of the United States, it will drive imported sugar out of the market. In the eastern half of the United States are 100,000 square miles of swamps which could be reclaimed. The redeemed lands would yield agricultural products as great | in quantity and as valuable as those of Ohto, Indiana and Illinois combined. Such Hi lands are (he richest in the world. Whereas | in a ferest decaying vegetable materials ure eventually absorbed and carried away by the atmosphere, in a swamp they are re- tained and accumulate, the layer of rich organic stuff becoming thicker every year. In Iinois, by the way, the draining of syamype hes been carried to a more ef- van point than anywhere else tn this country. The percentage of land under cultivetion in that state is higher than any- where else in the world, except Belgium. Products of Farm Swamps. One of the most interesting of the over- flowed areus in this country is the Dismal Swamp, which covers a large part of Vir- ginie and North Carolina. Already it has been partly drained, and eventually all of it will be redeemed for farming purposes. When this has been accomplished it will yield something like $16,000,000 worth of products anoualiy. Its fauna is peculiar. There are few birds within ita confines, end small ground —— are absent, of course. However, there are a good many bears and not a few wild cattle, strayed from domestic herds. A curious industry practiced in the region is fishing for sunken logs, which have iain the water for cen- — These ure easily conveyed to mar- et. Certain valuable from of there is water chemical action. that in Kew England alone Products are shells called some- times accumuifte to a depth of hundreds of feet. Attempts have been made to util- ize peat, obtained from swamps, by press- ing and otherwise preparing it for a fuel; but the cost is too great and the fuel not very satisfactory. Mosses of the sphagnum family are the greatest swamp-bullding plants. The ac- cumulation ef their decay forms peat,which represents a stage in the making of coal. These mosses do not grow well below the latitude of South Carolina. Characteristic of salt morasves in, the er south are tain tree-like plants called mangroves, which grow in salt water. In fact, salt floods | ain't afeard ard_uy suakes, or tonde, or bugs, oo fal nie: t Sitls are skeered uv I think are awe - Fe get tom, 1 guess; ax’ yet I hate to go te the light, An’ leaves me lyin’ all alone an’ seein’ things af ines ‘cormer, sometimes pa. — Salppabaae estates by ti 5 Scmetimes they're all a-standin’ in the middie o€ Sometimes they are a-sittin’ down, sometimes they're walking "round So softly and so creepy Uke they never make @ Sometimes they are as black as ink. an’ other times they're white, But the color ain't mo @ifference when you see things at might! Once, when I licked a feller “at bad Just moved om oar street, An’ father sent me up to bed without « Lit 9 en I woke up in the dark an’ saw things standin’ In <) row, A-lookin’ at me cross-eyed an’ p'intin’ at me. Ob, m ‘Wus eo tkeered that time I never aleg® ‘a mite— mie cimest alten when Fm tad hat Seco ching of it. Lacks thing I ain't a girl or Td be skeered os th! Bein''T'm @ bos, T duck my head ax’ bold mp th: An’ Tain, ob! 90 sory I'm @ naughty bos, as thon I promise to be better an’ prayers again! tbe only "way to make 18 right When nigh Gran’ms tells me that's a feller bas beee wicked an’ sees things of tt An’ so, when other maughty boys would coax me into ain, I 1, to skwunh the tempter's voice "at urges te with Ant hen these ple for supper or cakes ‘ar's hig IT want to—but I Go not pass my plate fr them “futher Tet’ starvation wipe me slowiy out of Than'T should keep a livin’ on an’ seein things wt gic hid EUGENE FULD. ———~e-- Too Inquisitive. From the Detroit Free Press. There's a man uptown who has a mania for collecting all sorts of queer facts in history, science and so forth, and his wife can't appreciate bira at all, The other evening he laid Gown his paper. “That's odd,” he said to her. “What?” she inquired. “The statement that it would take 12,000,000 years to pump the sea dry at the rate of 1,000 gallons a second.” ~ Studied the statement profoundly for ull Ww a minute. here would they put all the water? she asked innocentiy, and he paid no atteme . on whatever to the question. taken Now “It is very fortunate that I have such good care of my wedding dress. I can wear it to celebrate my golden wed- ding and be in the height of fashion!”