Urbana union. [volume] (Urbana, Ohio) 1862-1872, 1867-07-31
4 TERRIBLE NIGHT.

Z ~ J4ttLh LllG 1DAC5us GubNuC INC bGhd2G
beasts, and plant civilization and r9lig-
ion, It's narration Is replete with endear-
I ing and sometimes thrilling, reminiscenc-
les. How things we're done; how people
lived; how they enjoyed; how they suf-
fcred what they overcome, in those
| primitive times, now more than half
century back in history, are all register
| ed in the memories Of the few who have
( not vet passed over the river that divid-
cs time from eternity. The little tale
We are about to tell, IS a scrap from the
treasured experiences Of the writer, and
| is neither over nor under told:
/ 1t Is fifty years since. It was not
more than nine years Of age, l think
| Nv fathea took me to ride, on a bag of
corn, to the mill with him We had to
travel over a bride way through the
woods-some three miles-to the creek
bottom. It was July, and the weather
was intensely hot. When We reached
the wagon road that led to the Little Nj
ami. some four miles further TO 'Patter-
sons Mill darkness was setting in; aud
with the gloom that was setting around,
! low muttering thunders came upon our
ears, giving US warning that thunder
storm was imminent. Very soon puffs
of wind and the rapid motion Of the
clouds told but too plainly that we were
to be out in a storm, for no house was
near into which we could enter for pro-
lection. With the black clouds that
within few minutes closed over the hem
! iisphera, came profoundest darkness, and
rain began 10 pour in torrents, accom-
panied with terrific wind that threw limbs
of trees in profusion about Us, and We
| Iezpected at each moment to be crushed,
man and horse, beneath some gigantic
oak. The road was wide enough to allow
our horses to go abreast; and my father
/ grasping the rCins Of the one upon which
sat, thus kept nc near him; though
not exceeding three feet apart, such was
/ the clamoT Of The many clements that.
imy fathers voice, as he called 10 me at
/ intervals of few seconds, to be sure
that I was safe, was heard by me- with
| difficulty. Rain was pouring upon US as.
rain seldom falls; branches and leaves
torn from the trees were dashed into cur
faces, while such was the force of the
gale that 1t was difficult to keep from be-
ing blown from the backs Of the patient
animals. The flashes Of lightning were
so frequent as to enable US to see that
we we're in the road. We could not well
have got out of it, 50 dense was the ha-
eel and cedar thickets on either side.
AtIength a glare of light revealed our
position to be on the brink of preci-
pice that descended abruptly down to the
bottom land on the border Of the 'croek.
Ny fathers position was to the left, and
within foot Of the margin. In the cri-
sis he reined the horses head suddenly
to the right, which caused the poor beast
to loose his footing on the road slippery
BY the deluge Of water, and quick as
thought, horse and rider were precipitat- |
ed over the brink, and I was left alone |
in the darkness, while the thunder crash
ed, and the wind was making sad havoc |
of all super terrestrial things. The aw-
fulness of that moment to NE, my pen |
can make no approach toward telling. | |
was naturally superstitious and timid !
and I do not think that on introduction |
to the very gates Of the internal regions |
could have more filed ne with terror |
than at that moment seized upon me. I |
cannot tell whether I retained one par !
ticle of self control. I had instinct, and |
1 have now the recollection Of most that |
occurred. I know that I screamed for |
my father. I called long and loud, but /
in vain; the only response was the mock |
ing wind and the crashing trees. I had /
ceased to be conscious Of the rain. ! |
called my father BY endearing names. I
called my mother. I slipped down from
the beast. 1 was afraid to let her take
q last step lest she might share the fate
of the bay horse. I don't think I was
afraid then for myself; I think terror
had driven fear out I sat down in the
mud, called, and cried, and sobbed.
1 don't know whether l slept, or
whether I became obvious through ter
TOT, but there was blank that l never
could supply; for at the date of return
ell consciousness, the stars we're
shining down on me; and the banks of
dark clouds at the eastern horizon, and
the low sounds of thunder that reached ,
my ear, told that the storm was cover
and gone" The good roam mare stood
quietly by-me, and the bag Of shelled
corn was lying in the mad at her feet,
I said, poor roam, you could not holp ,
it I could see distinctly around me, I
but 7 had no way TO tell the time of
night. I knew nothing Of astrology. II
crept cautiously to the edge Of the Dc
chvity and peeped down long into the
branches below, that was made more I
dismal by the dense thicket that studded {
the slope. I called frantioally but all
was stiffness. I said, my poor father is Z
dead I was wholly incapable Of at |
to 60 into tho black, uncertain :
depth, and so thought I would try and /
find help. led the mare forward to i
big log and got on her and rode up to {
the mill, getting there just as daylight /
was fully established. s
My father was found that day at C
cabin about three quarters Of mile from v
the scene of disaster. When I arrived /
there, and would have embraced him, he u
looked frightodly at NE and asked if l
had seen anything Of a small riding on n
a roam marc, with bag Of corn. We Y
were left to infer that, stunned BY the Il
tumble down the bank, he had lain in Il
sensible until the drcnching rain had re il
stored partial consciousness, and thgi {.
:aon Lg had wandered III through th.'G