THE SAVING OF THE TRAIN
Without a word Jack threw off his Scout’s pack and prepared for
his task, but turned to ask what he should do for something with
which to flag the train. Harry French whipped out a large red silk
handkerchief and quickly passed it over. Without a moment’s delay
Jack swung off, with Mr. Durland’s “Take care of yourself, Jack,” and
the good-bye shouts of his fellow Scouts ringing in his ears.
His companions held their breath as he swung out over the rushing
water. Until now they had failed to notice in the excitement that
the sky had again darkened and that there was every sign of another
downpour. The darkness increased, and again came that terrible rain
in such sheets that, strain their eyes as they would, they could not
see a trace of Jack.
And now Jack, brave Jack, was all alone in his struggle. Blinded by
the wind and the pouring rain, he could scarcely see one iron girder
of the trestle. Standing with difficulty and swaying dizzily, he
waited until a flash of lightning showed the way before him for one
blinding second. In that second he calculated the distance between
the girders and now crept on from girder to girder over those hungry
waters that seemed to leap at him in an attempt to drag him down into
their raging depths.
Once he slipped and fell between the girders and for an instant
thought that he was lost, but with cat-like agility he caught at a
projecting beam, and, though the angry waters dashed over him and
sought to break his hold, they could not, and he pulled himself
slowly back to the trestle.
No standing up now! He had learned the danger of that. On hands and
knees, drenched by rain and river, buffeted by the terrible wind that
tore at him like some living enemy determined on his destruction, he
crawled painfully along inch by inch and foot by foot.
His hands, torn and bleeding from his desperate attempts to hold onto
the rough iron, almost refused to obey his will. The cold wind and
rain chilled him to the marrow and it was only his strong, determined
will and dauntless heart that held him to his task.
It seemed to him that he was going so slowly, so terribly slowly,
when there was such need of haste. He must hurry! He told himself
that the short hour before the train was due must already be gone.
At any moment now he might hear that dreaded whistle and see the
monster train bearing down upon him. What if it should come while he
was still on the trestle?
For a moment he stopped overwhelmed, controlled only by that physical
fear of death that is common to us all. The thought of going down
into that swirling flood and yielding his young life to those
merciless waves was more than he could bear. Only for a moment did
this thought sway him. Almost instantly the realization that upon him
depended other lives, and that he must hurry if he would hope to save
them restored his courage and banished every thought of self. Again
he crept on, trying to hurry and constantly beaten and held back by
wind and rain.
On, on, he crept, with bleeding fingers, toward the end of the
trestle. Would he never reach it? The downpour of rain lessened, and
it grew lighter. He strained his eyes, and, yes! there before him,
only a few yards distant now, was the end of the bridge and beyond
it, wet rails glistening, the track stretched away.
Rising to his feet, Jack looked eagerly, searchingly along that
track. Nothing in sight, he told himself exultingly. He was going to
be in time!
The storm was over now, and in the clearer light he hurried along,
his bleeding hands and bruised knees forgotten in the joyful thought
that he was going to succeed--but at this moment there was a terrible
crash and noise of breaking and splintering wood, and he stood
transfixed at the sight before him.
The end of the trestle the entire width across had given way and
fallen with a crash and now lay, a broken mass of wreckage, half on
land and half in water. An open space about six feet wide yawned
between Jack and the bank.
Not very much space, you think, for an agile Boy Scout trained in
all sorts of athletics to cover; and, ordinarily, that would have
been so. But now the ground under and beside the tracks was soft and
yielding from the rain and, to make the task of jumping still more
difficult, the mass of wreckage served as a dam and the water flowed
out over the roadbed, making it impossible to calculate the leap.
Our Scout stood there for a long minute trying to decide what to do.
If it had been only his own life that he had to consider, he would
not have hesitated a second, but he had to reflect that if lost there
would be no one to warn the express, which must now be very close at
hand.
Whatever he did he must do quickly. He glanced around keenly, but
could see nothing to aid him. Desperate, he looked again. Ah, yes!
There, a foot or so beneath where he was standing, he saw a beam of
wood projecting from the water. Jack could only see a few feet of it,
for the rest of it was under water, but it was his only chance and he
took it unhesitatingly. Drawing off his shoes that his feet might get
a better grip, he stepped down upon it and felt his way cautiously
along until he came to the broken end of the beam. Knowing that he
had gained several feet, he now leaped out over the flood. As he
jumped, he leaned far forward, and it was well he did, for as his
feet touched the soft earth, it slid from under them and it was only
by grasping at the rails that he kept himself from slipping backward
into the water.
Hurrah! he was on firm ground at last, and all else was forgotten in
the triumph.
Toot! Toot! T-o-o-t! It was the whistle of the express. He was just
in time. He dashed up the track toward the on-coming train with the
speed of an arrow. He had sore need now of all his athletic training
and ran as he had never run before. There around the bend, about a
fourth of a mile away, appeared the express, ten minutes behindhand,
and in consequence putting on extra speed.
Jack planted himself firmly in the middle of the track and waved the
red danger signal to and fro, his heart singing with joy. He expected
to see the express slow down, but to his amazement it did nothing of
the kind. They did not seem to see him!
What should he do? The train, with the broken trestle ahead of it,
must not be allowed to take that awful plunge. He must stop it!
He waved the red flag more frantically than before, but still the
train, unheeding, came on. Two minutes more and it would be upon
him. Now came the supreme test of his Scout training. Would he fail?
Lightning quick he thought and decided. Springing from the track, he
caught up a rock, and, as the train came abreast of him, hurled it
through the window of the cab. Then, well nigh exhausted as he was,
he ran along by the side of the track.
As the train sped by him he heard startled exclamations and shouted
oaths mingled with the sound of the breaking glass. He caught a
glimpse of the engineer face thrust from the cab window, and once
more he frantically waved the red flag.
At last, at last, he heard the grinding and whistling of the
air-brakes as the express began to slow down. So great had been its
speed that its momentum carried it on even when all steam had been
shut off and the air-brakes applied.
The engineer and fireman, now fully aware of some terrible danger,
feared the train could not be stopped in time. With bated breath
they waited, while nearer and nearer crept that awful gap. On, on,
went the great locomotive until within two scant feet of the broken
trestle when, with whistling brakes and grinding wheels, it came to a
full stop.
From cab and car people poured, gathering around Jack, whose white
face, bleeding hands and clothing torn almost in shreds told their
own story of the terrible ordeal through which he had just passed.
As it happened, there were several wealthy mine owners on the train
going up into the Adirondacks to verify a report of a rich vein in
that locality. With them was the superintendent of the road, likewise
interested in the mining project. His family, consisting of his wife,
his married daughter and her husband and their two young children,
were also of the party. It was for their accommodation that a most
luxuriously furnished private car had been added to the regular
train, and very soon Jack, quite restored, found himself sitting in a
wonderfully comfortable chair, and the center of attraction.
With keenest interest all listened to his account of the storm in the
mountains and as, in answer to their many questions, they drew from
him the story of the crossing of the trestle, their hearts glowed
with gratitude to the brave Boy Scout who had done so much for them.
They quickly made up a purse, and the superintendent of the road
presented it to Jack, saying, “This is from the passengers, for they
recognize the great debt you have placed upon them, and I can say for
the road itself that it will be quick to recognize in a substantial
way the service you have rendered it.”
Jack drew back, and firmly refused to accept the reward, first of all
because he did not wish it, and second because it is against Scout
rules to accept a reward for any such service. When the passengers
saw how determined he was in the matter, their admiration knew no
bounds, and if Jack had not been as strong minded as we know him to
be, it is to be feared that he would have grown conceited.
The superintendent soon gave orders to the engineer to make best
speed in backing the train to the county town, only a mile or two
away, and there Jack alighted, and after a short wait was joined by
the rest of the Troop, who had gained the town by means of a bridge
which had withstood the storm some miles down the river.