The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1872-01-06 00:00:00

THE AMERICAN FOREST FIRES.

"A Settler," writing to the Theilg me, from Lin-
coln, Nebraska, U.S., Dec. 3rd, has sent the following
exciting narrative of a forest lire, and the desolation it
left behind can scarcely be imagined by the English
reader :

I had the pleasure of reading your able article on the
calamity which recently befell Chicago, and also the
account. In your pages of the Forest fires which devastated
large portions of Michigan and Wisconsin ; Tot I have not
seen any mention of the Prairie tire, which has swept over
a portion of this State, rivalling even the horning of the
city in the magnitude of file area over which it pursued its
resistless march, and in the peculiar helplessness of Its un-
happy victims.
in the ttth of October last, not long arrived in America
from England, I entered my new home, jilt completed for
me 011 a pi. en of railway land in Saline e owty, lying stale
seventy miles west of this city. The house, stable, and
barn were built of "hunts r," but in a substantial manner,
with a view to pennanem y. line hundred tons of hay
stood In, stack hard by the buildings. A valuable pair
of horses were in the stables. The house was comfortably
stored. My family consisted of self and Iran and maid
servants. Around the whole, without the dimmest sus-
`What of fire, I had had the usual tire-streak ploughed.
Tho day after my settlement mowers were to come to
take out of the enclosure the rank, dry, standing grass which
the summer had grown, amt the frosts had killed. They
canteen Sundly morning. I could not.allow the work then
to be done. Tiny sore to come again on Monday.

About three o'clock on the afternoon of this same Sunday
a neighbour, mho had ridden Laid some miles, entered our
Louse. He told us there was a vast tire burning, that it wia
K. the windward, and Would inevitably he on us very soon :
Le bld ns take whatasmall things we vain,' most, abandon
all hope of 'lasing house and buildings, get oil to a near
creek, and look after 4,111.

The dreadful herald rode sway to prepare others for their
fate; one had scarcely tune to got out of the state of utter
bewilderment caused by the news before other and more
certain warnings arrivA. Ashes, carried up by the flames
and borne far ahead of their cause by the fury of the wind,
slowing,' the corning fiery storm. First they fell like big
solitary drops of thunder rain, then thicker and faster, then
still warm. Now the heaven darkened : the horizon to the
smith-fait quivered with crimson. The air became oppressive.
ThelM ft wind was as lire. 111 the direction from which the hor-
tilde desolation was approaching risky stow line of hills. For
time these hid trim us the terrible sight. The outline of
ii hills darkvned ; tho beyond brightened. Speedily at
nisny 'Whitt, the names apptared along the tops ; thee the
Ind, range was on lire. Fire rolled down its slopes like
lowoing lava 11r, Ti,,, sling upon the ground. Fire leapt
up towards the clouds. Miles ti the east and nines to the
west Core seemed to be one unbroken line of. tire.

Meanwhile we carried down to the water some few things
In portmanteau*. stone bed linen, and blankets. This we did
until it seemed as Ulundi we must catch fire frorp the wind,
and all action became literally impo•sible. The flames were
stilts mile assay.
ti.e crisis arrive I. The fire was around us. The
beat of a few minutes It fere, wbich seenoal then to be in-
tolerable, row seemed to lie as nothing. th, maid-servants
fainted. l'hin-deep in tile stream nip heed seemed in llamas.
We must choose now between death from fire or death from
water itrowning or sunoeation seemed to he the alternative
if which we flout make an immediate choice. Instinct
hose the Verner. It, it happened that we survived
through that few minutes I know not.
Owing to the fierceness of the wind and the spareness of
fuel for the tire in the immediate neighbourhood id our
refuge, the terrific crisis lasted Mit a few seconds, lone
many I cannot say, nave from the circumstance that we
just lived through it, though only jest. The ltueitlttg
passed over. 11 e lay On the scorched banks of the creek
too eshausted alai t grateful to realise the lulu it hail
wrought. Ind the Cl.,iluese if damage was but too
ahort—my all was gone. My horses, which on tlw first
Intimation of the tire I itt,,l loosed to save themselves as
best they could, wholut living or dead I knew not The
house, building and stack, were smouldering heaps of ashes.
When the air bad cooled, and the now seemirgly litter whol
hail revived us, we teed: in at • glance ioie new eondltion.
From the devastation we tnrned to look at the foe. The
night was coming on, and now, tuqoi away to the north-
east, riuted the unabated fire. It pursued its onward march
as an army In battle array—lines air, eu•lninns of lire, moving
with the precision of veteran rettnue,t.i. (lore and there
moth detlehments lingered in the rear of the main body to
finish their work of Vengeance.

My case was not alone. Thousands mast have nut.
fered. The houndleas prairie lay bet' Ire the flesolatiug
tempest. Dry grass, long and rank, in in its path like
trains of gunpowder to the travelling spark. As we took
oar last heavy look at it, the misery of one's on n It was
aggravated a handl edfold by the reflection that all
night long, maybe nil the ne at flay, perhaps for nights
and days to come, the tire notif.l burn In. 8:1,10114 its
dreadful path with tuna:Meting li.fmf Acads, ruined faint-
s, and human deml. Tidlngs sioce that night have con-
firmed this painful surmise. Ere the tire. I. ft the s.rantily
inhabited digriets many lives were lost, and hundreds of
small farmers had lost their all.

10,414 your readers may like to know imething of this
calamity, awl, though lute, this fragment may uot be with-
out interest.