Death and Desolation.
The terrible situation on the second day after the great disaster only
intensifies the horror. As information becomes more full and accurate,
it does not abate one tittle of the awful havoc. Rather it adds to it,
and gives a thousand-fold terror to the dreadful calamity.
Not only do the scenes which are described appear all the more dreadful,
as is natural, the nearer they are brought to the imagination, but it
seems only too probable that the final reckoning in loss of life and
material wealth will prove far more stupendous than has even yet been
supposed.
The very greatness of the destruction prevents the possibility of an
accurate estimate. Beneath the ghastly ruins of the once happy towns and
villages along the pathway of the deluge, who shall say how many victims
lie buried? Amid the rocks and woods that border the broad track of the
waters, who shall say how many lie bruised and mangled and
unrecognizable, wedged between boulders or massed amid debris and
rubbish, or hidden beneath the heaped-up deposits of earth, and whether
all of them shall ever be found and given the last touching rites?
Already the air of the little valley, which four days ago was smiling
with all the health of nature and the contentment of industrious man,
is waxing pestiferous with the awful odor of decaying human bodies.
Buzzards, invited by their disgusting instinct, gather for a promised
feast, and sit and glower on neighboring perches or else circle round
and round in the blue empyrean over the location of unfriended corpses,
known only to their keen sense of smell or vision.
But another kind of buzzard, more disgusting, more hideous, more vile,
has hastened to this scene of woe and anguish and desolation to exult
over it to his profit. Thugs and thieves in unclean hordes have
mysteriously turned up at Johnstown and its vicinity, as hyenas in the
desert seem to spring bodily out of the deadly sand whenever the corpse
of a gallant warrior, abandoned by his kind, lies putrefying in the
night.
There is a cry from the afflicted community for the policing of the
devastated region, and there is no doubt it is greatly needed. Happily,
Nemesis does not sleep this time in the face of such provocation as is
given her by these atrociously inhuman human beings. It is a
satisfaction to record that something more than a half dozen of them
have been dealt with as promptly and as mercilessly as they deserve. For
such as they there should be no code of pity.
There is an inexhaustible store of pathos and heroism in the tale of
this disaster. Of course, in all of its awful details it never can be
fitly written. One reason is that too many of the witnesses of its more
fearful phases "sleep the sleep that knows not waking." But there is a
greater reason, and that is that there is a point in the intenser
actuality of things at which all human language fails to do justice to
it. Yet--as simply told as possible--there are many incidents of this
great tragedy which nothing has ever surpassed or ever can surpass in
impressiveness. It is a consolation, too, that human nature at such
times does betray here and there a gleam of that side of it which gives
forth a reflection of the ideal manhood or womanhood. Bits of heroism
and of tender devotedness scattered throughout this dark, dismal picture
of destruction and despair light it up with wonderful beauty, and while
they bring tears to the eyes of the sternest reader, will serve as a
grateful relief from the pervading hue of horror and blackness.
There is the very gravest need of vigorous relief measures in favor of
the survivors of the flood. A spontaneous movement in that direction has
been begun, but as yet lacks the efficiency only to be derived from a
general and organized co-operation.
Complete Annihilation.
When Superintendent Pitcairn telegraphed from Johnstown to Pittsburgh
Friday night that the town was annihilated he came very close to the
facts of the case, although he had not seen the ill-fated city. To say
that Johnstown is a wreck is but stating the facts of the case. Nothing
like it was ever seen in this country. Where long rows of dwelling
houses and business blocks stood forty-eight hours ago, ruin and
desolation now reign supreme.
The losses, however, are as nothing compared to the frightful
sacrifices of precious human lives. During Sunday Johnstown has been
drenched with the tears of stricken mortals, and the air is filled with
sobs that come from breaking hearts. There are scenes enacted here every
hour and every minute that affect all beholders profoundly. When brave
men die in battle, for country or for principle, their loss can be
reconciled to the stern destinies of life. When homes are torn asunder
in an instant, and the loved ones hurled from the arms of loving and
devoted mothers, there is an element of sadness connected with the
tragedy that touches every heart.
_The loss of life is simply dreadful. The most conservative people
declare that the number will reach 5000, while others confidently assert
that 8000 or 10,000 have perished._
How Johnstown Looks after Flood and Fire Have Done
Their Worst.
An eye-witness writing from Pittsburgh says:--We have just returned from
a trip through what is left of Johnstown. The view from beyond is almost
impossible to describe. To look upon it is a sight that neither war nor
catastrophe can equal. House is piled upon house, not as we have seen in
occasional floods of the the Western rivers, but the remains of two and
four storied buildings piled upon the top of one another.
The ruins of what is known as the Club House are in perhaps the best
condition of any in that portion of the town, but it is certainly
damaged beyond possibility of repair. _On the upper floor five bodies
are lying unidentified._ One of them, a woman of genteel birth, judging
by her dress, is locked in one of the small rooms to prevent a
possibility of spoliation by wreckers, who are flocking to the spot from
all directions and taking possession of everything they can get hold of.
Here and there bodies can be seen sticking in the ruins. Some of the
most prominent citizens are to be seen working with might and main to
get at the remains of relatives whom they have located.
_There is no doubt that, wild as the estimates of the loss of life and
damage to property have been, it is even larger than there is any idea
of._
Close on to 2,000 residences lie in kindling wood at the lower end of
the town.
Freaks of the Flood.
An idea of the eccentricity of the flood may be gathered from the fact
that houses that were situated at Woodvale and points above Johnstown
are piled at the lower end of the town, while some massive houses have
been lifted and carried from the lower end as far as the cemetery at the
extreme upper portion of the town. All through the ruins are scattered
the most costly furniture and store goods of all kinds.
Thieves are Busy.
I stood on the keyboard and strings of a piano while I watched a number
of thieves break into the remnants of houses and pilfer them, while
others again had got at a supply of fine groceries and had broken into
a barrel of fine brandy, and were fairly steeping themselves in it. I
met quite a number of Pittsburghers in the ruins looking for friends and
relatives. If the skiffs which were expected from Pittsburgh were there
they would be of vast assistance in reaching the ruins, which are
separated by the stream of water descending from the hills. A great fear
is felt that there will be some difficulty in restoring the stream to
its proper channel. Its course now lies right along Main street, and it
is about two hundred yards wide.
Something should be done to get the bodies of the dead decently taken
care of. The ruins are reeking with the smell of decaying bodies. Right
at the edge of the ruins the decaying body of a stout colored woman is
lying like the remains of an animal, without any one to identify and
take care of it.
Lynching the Ghouls.
A number of Hungarians collected about a number of bodies at Cambria
which had been washed up and began rifling the trunks. After they had
secured all the contents they turned their attention to the dead.
The ghastly spectacle presented by the distorted features of those who
had lost their lives during the flood had no influence upon the ghouls,
who acted more like wild beasts than human beings. They took every
article from the clothing on the dead bodies, not leaving anything of
value or anything that would serve to identify the remains.
After the miscreants had removed all their plunder to dry ground a
dispute arose over a division of the spoils. A pitched battle followed
and for a time the situation was alarming. Knives and clubs were used
freely. As a result several of the combatants were seriously wounded and
left on the ground, their fellow countrymen not making any attempt to
remove them from the field of strife.
JOHNSTOWN, PA., June 2, 11 A.M.
_They have just hung a man over near the railroad to the telegraph pole
for cutting the finger off of a dead woman in order to get a ring._
Vengeance, Swift and Sure.
The way of the transgressor in the desolated valley of the Conemaugh is
hard indeed. Each hour reveals some new and horrible story of suffering
and outrage, and every succeeding hour brings news of swift and merited
punishment meted out to the fiends who have dared to desecrate the stiff
and mangled corpses in the city of the dead, and torture the already
half crazed victims of the cruelest of modern catastrophes.
As the roads to the lands round about are opened tales of almost
indescribable horror come to light, and deeds of the vilest nature,
perpetrated in the darkness of the night, are brought to light.
Followed by Avenging Farmers.
Just as the shadows began to fall upon the earth last evening a party of
thirteen Hungarians were noticed stealthily picking their way along the
banks of the Conemaugh toward Sang Hollow. Suspicious of their purpose,
several farmers armed themselves and started in pursuit. Soon their
most horrible fears were realized. The Hungarians were out for plunder.
Lying upon the shore they came upon the dead and mangled body of a woman
upon whose person there were a number of trinkets and jewelry and two
diamond rings. In their eagerness to secure the plunder, the Hungarians
got into a squabble, during which one of the number severed the finger
upon which were the rings, and started on a run with his fearful prize.
The revolting nature of the deed so wrought upon the pursuing farmers,
who by this time were close at hand, that they gave immediate chase.
Some of the Hungarians showed fight, but being outnumbered were
compelled to flee for their lives. Nine of the brutes escaped, but four
were literally driven into the surging river and to their death. The
inhuman monster whose atrocious act has been described was among the
number of the involuntary suicides. Another incident of even greater
moment has just been brought to notice.
Anxious to be a Murderer.
At half-past eight this morning an old railroader who had walked from
Sang Hollow stepped up to a number of men who were congregated on the
platform stations at Curranville and said:--"Gentlemen, had I a shotgun
with me half an hour ago I would now be a murderer, yet with no fear of
ever having to suffer for my crime.
"Two miles below here I watched three men going along the banks
_stealing the jewels from the bodies of the dead wives and daughters of
men who have been robbed of all they held dear on earth._"
He had no sooner finished the last sentence than five burly men, with
looks of terrible determination written on their faces, were on their
way to the scene of plunder, one with a coil of rope over his shoulder
and another with a revolver in his hand. In twenty minutes, so it is
stated, they had overtaken two of the wretches, who were then in the act
of cutting pieces from the ears and fingers from the hands of the bodies
of two dead women.
Brutes at Bay.
With revolver leveled at the scoundrels the leader of the posse shouted,
"Throw up your hands or I'll blow your heads off!" With blanched faces
and trembling forms they obeyed the order and begged for mercy. They
were searched, and as their pockets were emptied of their ghastly finds
the indignation of the crowd intensified, and when _a bloody finger of
an infant, encircled with two tiny gold rings_, was found among the
plunder in the leader's pocket, a cry went up "_Lynch them! Lynch
them!_" _Without a moment's delay ropes were thrown around their necks
and they were dangling to the limbs of a tree, in the branches of which
an hour before were entangled the bodies of a dead father and son._
After the expiration of a half hour the ropes were cut, and the bodies
lowered and carried to a pile of rocks in the forest on the hill above.
It is hinted that an Allegheny county official was one of the most
prominent actors in this justifiable homicide.
Another case of attempted lynching was witnessed this evening near
Kernville. The man was observed stealing valuable articles from the
houses. He was seized by a mob, a rope was placed around his neck and he
was jerked up into the air. The rope was tied to the tree and his
would-be lynchers left him. Bystanders cut him down before he was dead.
The other men did not interfere and he was allowed to go. The man was so
badly scared that he could not give his name if he wanted to do so.
Two colored men were shot while robbing the dead bodies, by the
Pittsburgh police, who are doing guard about the town.
Fiends in Human Form.
To one who saw bright, bustling Johnstown a week ago the sight of its
present condition must cause a thrill of horror, no matter how callous
he might be. I doubt if any incident of war or flood ever caused a more
sickening sight. Wretchedness of the most pathetic kind met the gaze on
every side.
_Unlawfulness runs riot._ If ever military aid was needed now is the
time. _The town is perfectly overrun with thieves_, many of them from
Pittsburgh. The Hungarians are the worst. They seem to operate in
regular organized bands. In Cambria City this morning they entered a
house, drove out the occupants at the point of revolvers and took
possession. They can be constantly seen carrying large quantities of
plunder to the hills.
The number of drunken men is remarkable. Whiskey seems marvelously
plenty. Men are actually carrying it around in pails. Barrels of the
stuff are constantly located among the drifts, and men are scrambling
over each other and fighting like wild beasts in their mad search for
it.
At the cemetery, at the upper end of the town, I saw a sight that rivals
the inferno. A number of ghouls had found a lot of fine groceries, among
them a barrel of brandy, with which they were fairly stuffing
themselves. One huge fellow was standing on the strings of an upright
piano singing a profane song, every little while breaking into a wild
dance. A half dozen others were engaged in a hand-to-hand fight over the
possession of some treasure stolen from a ruined house, and the crowd
around the barrel were yelling like wild men.
The cry for help increases every hour. Something must be done to get the
bodies decently taken care of. The ruins are reeking with the smell of
decaying bodies. At the very edge of the ruins the body of a large
colored woman, in an advanced state of decomposition, is lying like the
body of an animal.
Watched Their Friends Die.
The fire in the drift above the bridge is still burning fiercely and
will continue to do so for several days. The skulls of six people can be
seen sticking up out of the ruins just above the east end of the bridge.
Nothing but the blackened skulls can be seen. They are all together.
The sad scenes will never all be written. One lady told me this morning
of seeing her mother crushed to pieces just before her eyes and the
mangled body carried off down the stream. William Yarner lost six
children and saved a baby about eighteen months old. His wife died just
three weeks ago. An aged German, his wife and five daughters floated
down on their house to a point below Nineveh, where the house was
wrecked. The five daughters were drowned, but the old man and his wife
stuck in a tree and hung there for twenty-four hours before they could
be taken off.
Died Kissing Her Babe.
One of the most pitiful sights of this terrible disaster came to my
notice this afternoon, when the body of a young lady was taken out of
the Conemaugh River. The woman was apparently quite young, though her
features were terribly disfigured. Nearly all the clothing except the
shoes was torn off the body. The corpse was that of a mother, for
although cold in death the woman clasped a young male babe apparently
not more than a year old tightly in her arms. The little one was huddled
close up to its mother's face, who when she realized their terrible
fate, had evidently raised the babe to her lips to imprint upon its
little lips the last motherly kiss it was to receive in this world. The
sight was a pathetic one and turned many a stout heart to tears.
Among the miraculous escapes to be recorded in connection with the great
disaster is that of George J. Leas and his family. He resided on Iron
street. When the rush of water came there were eight people on the
roof. The little house swung around off its moorings and floated about
for nearly half an hour before it came up against the bank of drift
above the stone bridge. A three-year-old girl with sunny golden hair and
dimpled cheeks prayed all the while that God would save them, and it
seemed that God really answered the prayer of this innocent little girl
and directed the house against the drift, enabling every one of the
eight to get off. Mrs. Leas carried the little girl in her arms, and how
she got off she doesn't know. Every house around them, she said, was
crushed, and the people either killed or drowned.
Thugs at Their Work.
One of the most dreadful features of this catastrophe has been the
miserable weakness displayed by the authorities of Johnstown and the
surrounding boroughs. Johnstown needed them sadly for forty-eight hours.
There is supposed to be a Burgess, but like most burgesses he is a
shadowy and mythical personage. If there had been concerted and
intelligent action the fire in the debris at the dam could have been
extinguished within a short time after it started. Too many cooks
spoiled this ghastly broth.
Even now if dynamite or some other explosive was intelligently applied
the huge mass of wreckage which has up to the present time escaped the
flame, and no doubt contains a number of bodies, could be saved from
fire.
This, however, is a matter of small import compared with the immunity
granted the outrageous and open graveyard robbery and disgusting
thievery which have thriven bravely since Friday morning.
Foreigners and natives carrying huge sacks, and in some instances even
being assisted by horses and carts, have been busily engaged hunting
corpses and stealing such valuables as were to be found in the wreckage.
Dozens of barrels of strong liquor have been rescued by the Hungarian
and Polish laborers from among the ruins of saloons and hotels and the
contents of the same have been freely indulged in. This has led to an
alarming debauchery, which is on the increase. All day the numbers of
the drunken crowd have been augmented from time to time by fresh
arrivals from the surrounding districts.
Those who have suffered from the tidal wave have become much embittered
against the law breakers. There have been many small fights and several
small riots in consequence. This has been regarded with apprehension by
the State authorities, and Adjutant General Hastings has arrived at
Johnstown to examine into the condition of affairs and to guard the
desolated district with troops. The Eighteenth regiment, of Pittsburgh,
has tendered its services to this work, but has received no reply to its
tender.
General Hastings estimates that the loss of life is at least eight
thousand.
An employee of J.L. Gill, of Latrobe, says he and thirty-five other men
were in a three-story building in Johnstown last night. They had been
getting out logs for the Johnstown Lumber Company. The man says that
the building was swept away and all the men were drowned except Gill and
his family.
Handling the Dead.
The recovery of bodies has taken up the time of thousands all day. The
theory now is that most of those killed by the torrent were buried
beneath the debris. To-day's work in the ruins in a large degree
justifies this assumption. I saw six bodies taken out of one pile of
rubbish not eight feet square.
The truth is that bodies are almost as plentiful as logs. The whirl of
the waters puts the bodies under and the logs and boards on top. The
rigidity of arms standing out at right angles to the bloated and bruised
bodies show that death in ninety-nine out of a hundred cases took place
amid the ruins--that is after the wreck of houses had closed over them.
Dr. D.G. Foster, who has been here all day, is of the opinion that most
of the victims were killed by coming into violent contact with objects
in the river and not by drowning. He found many fractured skulls and on
most heads blows that would have rendered those receiving them instantly
unconscious, and the water did the rest.
_Not fewer than three hundred bodies have been taken from the river and
rubbish to-day._ It has been the labor of all classes of citizens, and
marvellous work has been accomplished. The eastern end of Main street,
through which the waters tore most madly and destructively, and in which
they left their legacy of wrecked houses, fallen trees and dead bodies
in a greater degree than in any other portion of the city, has been
cleared and the remains of over fifty have been taken out.
All over town the searchers have been equally successful. As soon as a
body is found it is placed on a litter and sent to the Morgue, where it
is washed and placed on a board for several hours to await
identification.
[Illustration: INTERIOR OF THE MORGUE.]
The Morgue is the Fourth-ward school house, and it has been surrounded
all day by a crowd of several thousand people. At first the crowd were
disposed to stop those bearing the stretchers, uncover the remains and
view them, but this was found to be prolific not only of great delay,
also scenes of agony that not even the bearers could endure.
Now a litter is guarded by a file of soldiers with fixed bayonets, and
the people are forced aside until the Morgue is reached. It is
astonishing to find how small a number of injured are in the city. Few
survived. It was death or nothing with the demon of the flood.
Now that an adequate idea of what has befallen them has been reached,
and the fact that a living has still to be made, that plants must be
taken care of, that contracts must be filled, the business people of the
city are giving their attention to the future. Vice President and
Director James McMillan, of the Cambria Iron Company, says their loss
has been well nigh incalculable. They are not daunted, but will
to-morrow begin the work of clearing up the ruins of their mills
preparatory to rebuilding and repairing their works. They will also
immediately rebuild the Gautier Iron Works. This is the disposition of
all.
"Our pockets are light," they say, "but if nothing happens all of us
will be in business again." The central portion of Johnstown is as
completely obliterated as if it had never had foundation. The river has
made its bed upon the sites of hundreds of dwellings, and a vast area of
sand, mud and gravel marks the old channel.
It is doubtful whether it will be possible even to reclaim what was once
the business portion of the city. The river will have to be returned to
its old bed in order to do this.
Among the lost is H.G. Rose, the District Attorney of Cambria county,
whose body was among the first discovered.
Governor Foraker, of Ohio, this afternoon sent five hundred tents to
this city. They will be pitched on the hillside to-morrow. They are
sadly needed, as the buildings that are left are either too damp or too
unsafe for occupancy.
Burying the Dead.
The work of burying the dead began this morning and has been kept up
till late this evening. The bruising of the bodies by logs and trees and
other debris and other exposure in the water have tended to hasten
decomposition, which has set in in scores of cases, making interment
instantly necessary.
Bodies are being buried as rapidly as they are identified. The work of
Pittsburgh undertakers in examining the dead has rendered it possible to
keep all those embalmed two or three days longer, but this is desirable
only in cases where identification is dubious and no claimants appear at
all.
To-day the cars sent out from Pittsburgh with provisions for the living
were hastily cleared in order to contain the bodies of the dead intended
for interment in suburban cemeteries and in graveyards handy to the
city.
Formality is dispensed with. In some instances only the undertaker and
his assistants are present, and in others only one or two members of
the family of the dead.
The dead are more plentiful than the mourners.
Death has certainly dealt briefly with the stricken city. "Let the dead
bury the dead" has been more nearly exemplified in this instance than in
any other in this country's history. The magnitude of the horror
increases with the hours. It is believed that not less than two thousand
of the drowned found lodgment beneath the _omnium gatherum_ in the
triangle of ground that the Conemaugh cut out of the bank between the
river and the Pennsylvania Railroad bridge.
The Greatest Funeral Pyre in History.
The victims were not upon it, but were parts of it. Whole houses were
washed into the apex of the triangle. Hen coops, pigstys and stables
were added to the mass. Then a stove ignited the mass and the work of
cremation began. It was a literal breast of fire. The smoke arose in a
huge funnel-shaped cloud, and at times it changed to the form of an hour
glass. At night the flames united would light up this misty remnant of
mortality. The effect upon the living, both ignorant and intelligent,
was the same. That volume of smoke with its dual form, produced a
feeling of awe in many that was superior in most cases to that felt in
the awful moment of the storm's wrath on Friday.
Hundreds stood for hours regarding the smoke and wondering whether it
foreboded another visitation more dire than its predecessor.
The people hereabouts this morning awoke to find that nothing was left
but a mass of ashes, calcined human bones, stoves, old iron and other
approximately indestructible matter, from which only a light blue vapor
was arising. General Hastings took precautions to prevent the extension
of the fire to another huge pile, a short distance away, and this will
be rummaged to-day for bodies of flood victims.
The Pittsburgh undertakers have contributed more to facilitate the
preparation of the dead for the graves than all others besides.
There was a disposition on the part of many foreigners and negroes to
raid the houses, and do an all around thieving business, but the
measures adopted by the police had a tendency to frighten them off in
nearly every case.
One man was caught in the act of robbing the body of an old woman, but
he protested that he had got nothing and was released. He immediately
disappeared, and it was found afterward that he had taken $100 from the
pocket of the corpse.
A half-breed negro yesterday and this morning was doing a thriving
business in collecting hams, shoulders, chickens and even furniture. He
had thieves in his employ, and while to some of them he was paying
regular salaries, others were doing the work for a drink of whiskey. The
authorities stopped this thing very suddenly, but not until a number of
the people threatened to lynch the half breed. In one or two instance
very narrow escapes from the rope were made.
Thousands of coffins and rough boxes have already arrived, and still
the supply is short. They are brought in marked to some undertaker, who
has a list of his dead, and as fast as the coffins come he writes the
name of its intended tenant and tells the friends (when there are any)
where to find it.
How a Funeral Takes Place.
Two of them go after it, and, carrying it between them to the Morgue or
to their homes, place the body in it and take it to the burial grounds.
One unfortunate feature of the destruction is the fact that some one has
been drowned from nearly every house in the city, and teams are
procurable only with the greatest difficulty.
Dead horses are seen everywhere. In one stable two horses, fully
harnessed, bridled and ready to be taken out, stand dead in their
stable, stiff and upright. In a sand pile near the Pennsylvania Railroad
depot a horse's hind feet, rump and tail are all that can be seen of
him. He was caught in the rapidly running waters and had been driven
into the sand.
The following telegram from Johnstown has been received at Pittsburg:
"For God's sake tell the sight-seers to keep away from Johnstown for the
present. What we want is people to work, not to look on. Citizen's
Committee."
Three trains have already been sent out with crowded cargoes of
sight-seers. At every station along the road excited crowds are waiting
for an opportunity to get aboard.
That's what would have happened to the owners of South Fork if they had
put in an appearance.
There is great indignation among the people of Johnstown at the wealthy
Pittsburghers who own South Fork. They blame them severely for having
maintained such a frightfully dangerous institution there. The feeling
among the people was intense. If any of the owners of the dam had put in
an appearance in Johnstown they would have been lynched.
The dam has been a constant menace to this valley ever since it has been
in existence, and the feeling, which has been bitter enough on the
occasion of every flood hitherto, after this horrible disaster is now at
fever heat.
Without seeing the havoc created no idea can be given of the area of the
desolation or the extent of the damage.
Only One Left to Mourn.
An utterly wretched woman stood by a muddy pool of water, trying to find
some trace of a once happy home. She was half crazed with grief, and her
eyes were red and swollen. As I stepped to her side she raised her pale
and haggard face, crying:
"They are all gone. Oh God be merciful to them. My husband and my seven
dear little children have been swept down with the flood and I am left
alone. We were driven by the raging flood into the garret, but the
waters followed us there. Inch by inch it kept rising until our heads
were crushing against the roof. It was death to remain. So I raised a
window and one by one placed my darlings on some drift wood, trusting
to the Great Creator. As I liberated the last one, my sweet little boy,
he looked at me and said:
'Mamma, you always told me that the Lord would care for me; will he look
after me now?'
"I saw him drift away with his loving face turned toward me, and with a
prayer on my lips for his deliverance he passed from sight forever. The
next moment the roof crashed in and I floated outside to be rescued
fifteen hours later from the roof of a house in Kernville. If I could
only find one of my darlings, I could bow to the will of God, but they
all are gone. I have lost everything on earth now but my life, and I
will return to my old Virginia home and lay me down for my last great
sleep."
A handsome woman, with hair as black as a raven's wing, walked through
the depot, where a dozen or more bodies were awaiting burial. Passing
from one to another, she finally lifted the paper covering from the face
of a woman, young and with traces of beauty showing through the stains
of muddy water. With a cry of anguish she reeled backward, to be caught
by a rugged man who chanced to be passing. In a moment or so she had
calmed herself sufficiently to take one more look at the features of her
dead. She stood gazing at the unfortunate as if dumb. Finally turning
away with another wild burst of grief she said:--
"And her beautiful hair all matted and her sweet face bruised and
stained with mud and water."
The dead woman was the sister of the mourner. The body was placed in a
coffin a few minutes later and sent away to its narrow house.
These incidents are but fair samples of the scenes familiar to every
turn in this stricken city.
[Illustration: THE AWFUL RUSH OF WATERS.]