The Ouachita telegraph. [volume] (Monroe, La.) 1865-1889, 1871-11-04

NIlAlstu, VI l. ssl1S, was SOAhhSN W
her bed with a child only a few
hours old. The fire drove her
from the bed with the babe in
her arms, child in one hand,
and two other children following
her. Her mother, little way
behind her, was caught in the
flames while passing through the
gateway, and perished there.
Since Vesuvius buried the people
of Pompeii in hot ashes, perhaps
the world has known no trage-
dies like those enacted in our
northwestern woods this deadly
autumn.
SELF SACRIFICE.
Many stories are told of self
sacrifice, helpfulness, courage and
noble devotion of these people
to each others salvation. Prob
ably as little of the heroism as of
the horrors of these scenes will
ever be known, but it has doubt
less met with a reward in COM
parison with which the praise of
man is feeble and unworthy.
Even now men are toilinG and
laboring in the woods, trying to
open up the interior cut Off by
the fire, and to carry relief to the
miserable. The women ill the
woods, as in the city, arc helpful,
sympathetic and self-sacriticing.
One of them, Mrs. Dunlap, of
White Rock, with eyes nearly put
out by the flame and smoke, with
five children burned and man
gled by the cruel flames, with
but one dress saved from her
wardrobe, lying blind, sore, sick
and faint, insisted upon giving
her only remaining gown to a
needy neighbor, and rising from
the bed on which she was
stretched, in order that Il friend
whose necessities seemed greater
than her own might have the use
of it. Christianity and self-de-
votion, as pure and noble as Sgd
ney's and Howard's, have found
scope and action among these
wild and fearful ravages of fire
and smoke in these rude, rough
woods.
The following recital of fiery
horrors refers to the late forest
fires in Wisconsin
THE RUSH OF THE FIERY BLAST.
The roar of the blast was as
loud as tho whirr of a great mill.
AS we stood looking on, say at
about 10 o'clock, we heard
another strange sound. Strain
ing our eyes toward the fire
about seven miles distant-we
could just discern something
moving now it would appear
like q black mass, then it would
separate into fragments, swaying'
to and fro, and bobbing up and
down. It came toward us dI-
rectly from the lurid wall OF
flame. So intense was the glaro
of chit all about us that our eyes
were dazed; they ran with water,
and we could sec only by con-
stantly using our handkerchiets:
At last we made out by sight and
sound that the moving mass was
a stampede of cattle and horses
laundering along toward us
away from the flames, believing,
neighing, ann moaning as they
galloped on. Finally they came
flushing past with fearful speed,
their eyeballs dilated and glaring
with terror, and every motion
betokening delirium of fright.
Some had been badly burned,
and must have plunged through
a long space of flame i'll the dcs-
perate effort to escape.
A FANIILY'S FATE.
Following considerably behind
came a solitary horse, painting
and snorting and exhausted. He
was saddled and bridlcd, and, as
we first thought, had bag lashed
to his back. AS he came up we
were startled at the sight of a
young lad lying fallen over the
animals neck, the bride wound
around his hands, and the name
being clinched by the fingers.
Little effort was needed to stop
the iaded horse and at once re-
lease the helpless boy. He was
taken into the house, and all
that we could do was done; but
he had inhaled the smoke, and
was seemingly dying. Some time
elapsed, and he revived enough
to speak. He told his name,
Patrick Byrnes, and said:
sFathcr and mother and the
children got into tho wagon. !