The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1877-09-13

"Tell the station-master at Ammering
Junction, and any people you see, that
the South Reservoir will not last three
hours. 1t will burst down the valley,
and will destroy the Apps Viaduct, and
carry away the bridges on the Holmes
dale branch. Stop the traffic, and save
the passengers. God bless you; and,
bark We, ride for your life. I will fire
the sigEal-cannon, as warning. Good
by"
Mechanically | gathered up the reins,
nodded to McCausland, for | was too
stupefied to reply in words, and started
upon my wild ride. Three hours hence
and the water would be pouring down
the valley through which my course lay.
No wonder l had to ride for my life, and
perhaps the lives of hundreds of my
fellow-creatures depended on mine,
Ammering Junction was some miles
| away. My route lay through an I'M
known country, across moorland inter-
sected by flooded streams and swept by
| the fierce wind and rain.
/ must do it, l thought, as my horse
picked his cautious way amid the loose
stones down the steep by-road we had as
cended the previous day. l should need
all my strength, though to execute my
| task. 50 / pressed on. A valuable slice
out of my time had been expended when
| reached the broad highway and urged
my horse to speed. l had to turn off
again, / knew, but l fancied l should
easily find the path. Besides, was there
not sign-poste Therefore, urged by
dreadful tidings, and with the fierce
| wind and biting rain by turns and
altogether assailing me | urged my horse
onward. | reached the turning and
pulled up to read the direction / should
take. nearly tainted with horror as |
| read. The fatal finger pointed up the cross
| road | was pursuing-To Holmesdale
and Seaham. The opposite index
pointed to Rudall and Ammering. /
could scarce credit my senses. Surely, /
was right! We had come up the preyi-
Gus day, and up the hill to the reservoirs.
had travelled. At that moment, if you
will believe me, the true state of the case
and my own stupidity flashed upon me.
We had come from Holmesdale; l was
now bound for Ammering, which lay at
the opposite side.
This was a terrible mistake. 1t was
now after six. One of the three
precious hours had elapsed, and l was
| farther from Ammering than when |
started. | was seized with despair;
whatever could l do now? Two hours re-
manned, and | had three uphill miles to
ride, and then about seven more across
the moor before l could reach the juno
ton, and before that the trains might
have started, and then!
/ burst out into cold perspiration at
the thought, and then desperate, and
only half-conscious, / rode madly back
to the Ammering road, and up the hill
again. But the storm-fend was abroad,
and had arrayed all his forces against me.
As we gained the more open ground,
the blast came down with such violence
as to stagger us. 1t tore across the hill
side, and, whizzed and hizzed among the
gorse and swaying grass. The rain
came down more determinedly than ever
At length | reached a small cluster of
stone cottages, and halted under the lee
of the last one to take breath for fresh
struggle over the moor-which lay be-
fore me. A straight road lay over it-a
good road, but crossed at intervals by
rapid streams which had overhowed
their usual limits, and swelled over their
boundaries in all the pride Of "spate"
across the finty stones which had defed
them all the summer long. The SUBMITS
of the neighbOring hills were shrouded
in veil of mist, but far in advance, on
the level, could trace the railroad line.
From the elevation at which l stood /
could trace the channel of the Apps
River down the valley, and could guess
the spot at which the food would strike
the railroad, and the branch line over
the spur of the hill. could just distin-
guish the junction in the middle dis
tance. A dense smoke appeared to be
rising from it; an engine, perhaps, wait
ing to start with train, and | was lin
gering on the hill. All this, and more,
| could perceive as / rested on the sum-
nit. Somewhat refreshed, 1 rode man.
fully forward into the storm.
How my horse kept his feet ] do not
to this day understand. The wind,
which had been high before, appeared
to have gathered new force while we had
halted, and it rushed across the path ter
rifically. Pebbles were frequently blown
across the road, and every pool had its
waves. Some helpless crows were blown
over my head, and a sinister appearing
raven skinned the moor close by, utter
ing a wierd croak which fell upon my ears
like a knell, and chilled my blood. l
was quite alone, not human being in
sight, but suddenly the whistle of a loco
motive was carried to my ears. An en-
Of ba
whistle shortly afterwards. That train
was safe. watched it glide away over
the viaduct. Five minutes later | rode
into the station and called for the sta
ton master. As | dismounted the clock
struck. The time was up, and no signal
from McCausland. Telegraphing would
now be easy. A porter came out in re-
Spouse to my summons.
Pm sorry We lost the express" he be-
gan.
II dent want the train," | replied,
i" l must telegraph at once, though.
Where is the station-master ??
"He'll be here in a minute. But We
can't telegraph. The wires are blown
down. We had to send pilot with
the express to clear the line up to Hand
leigh"
mot telegraph! l tell you man,
must stop the traffic. The South
Holmesdale reservoir will burst this very
hour"
"Can that be true?' inquired cool,
gentlemanly man al my elbow. 1t was
the station-master.
"Truev' l echoed. at is only too
true. l have ridden to tell you. We
must stop the trains"
The excursion leaves Handleigh at
So" unused the station-master. There
may be time; come with me-"
He crossed the line and entered shed
opposite | followed. Just then loud
booming sound rent the air. The sound
came back from the hills like thunder.
at is the signal, | exclaimed. "The
water is out. Heaven help US now"
The station-master called out. A
cleaner appeared. is that engine
ready?"