The Canton mail. [volume] (Canton, Miss.) 18??-1882, 1875-02-27
Vivid Description of an 3sx1anche.

A miner of Little Cottonwood, who
saw the descent of one of the recent
snow slides in that canyon, thus de-
scribes it
"There goes a srowslide !" exclaimed
my &C companion, as, in the midst of n
heavy sleet, we assembled the canon
where we had been assisting in ex-
humiDg the corpse of a victim, at the
scene of late disaster. "Do you not
hear it ?" and a shrill whistling sound
which attracted my attention, deepened
into low, gutteral-like roar, increasing
in volume and power a. every instant,
until the artillery of Stone river seemed
but whisper in comparison.
Where is it?' 1 hurriedly asked,
while the air at that distance seemed to
tremble in consonance witt the motions
of a monster still invisible.
From the bed of Little Cottonwood a
smooth incline rises at an angle of
twenty degrees from the horizontal,
terminating in a perpendicular somber
wall ], ZOO feet in height. which is again
surmounted by receding quartzite cliffs,
through which two narrow gorges cut
their ways, diverRing in different direc-
tions, aud making scallop in the hori-
ION are lost to view.
Amidst the blood curdling uproar the
phenomena were invisible till the
gorges at the summit filled The level
with the moving Stow. Rocks, as if in
rage at their inability to Withstand the
shock, gave way from their foundations
with an audible growl. Clumps of
trees, centuries in maturing, snapped
like stubble, their dark branches de-
scribing the undulations of the surface
as though a struggle for existence was
theirs until overtaken by some more
powerful wave of the avalanche. They
sink gradually and disappear jutting
crags of quartzite shake off their dis
connected portions, which, tnmbling
down their jagged sides, bury them
selves noiselessly in the moving masses,
that having united at the converging
point, rush toward the edge of the
abyss with increased fury. Nothing
more terrible than the successive
plunges of the disconnected portions
of the avalanche over the precipice can
we'll be conceived. Compressed by con-
tact with obstacles in its course, the
van of the volume has attained the SOL
idity Of ice. Retarded by variations of
the incline, it seems to pause on the
edge of the precipice as though in SEN
sitive dread of the terrific shock which
awaited it. Impeiled by the tremen-
dous pressure behind, it juts over the
gulf unsupported distance of fifty
feet until severed by its own tremen-
dous weight, it strikes the earth with a
crash, only neutralized by the uproar
above it. With duller thud and an
irregular roar for an echo each separate
descending body alighted on its prede-
cessor, piling higher aid higher at each
successive descent, as though preparing
for the grandest tableau of the sublime
spectacle. Higher and higher, until
assuming the proportions of majestic
column, it conceals the bluff behind it
half distant to the top.
evil it fall ?" asked my companion,
as transfxed by the phenomena he ut
ters the first words that have escaped
him.
yes, it must fall. Sac, it is waving
already" Great God, what a scene
Colossal in its magnitude, yet SYM
metrical in proportion to the scenery
in relief superb to the vision, indie
scribable in its destruction. A sway
ing motion, a graceful sweep, a boom
indispensable in power, the crags and
canons no mute auditors of the per-
Torrance. In tones of thunder they
hurl back their applause. Salt Lake
Herald