The Arkansaw traveler., 1885-06-27
AN ENGINEERS STORY.
[Exehange.I

locomotive engineers in the county:
 In 1869 ] was running train on the Buffalo, Cory & Erie railroad. The track from Prospect or Msyville Summit to Brocton Junction is so crooked that while the distance is actually only ten miles, the curves make it by rail fourteen
 The grade for the whole distance is ovez seventy feet to the mile. About nine o'clock on the night of August Y, 1869
 we reached the summit with a train oi two passenger cars, six oil cars and box car. The latter contained two valuable trotting horses and their keepers, on their way, l believe, to Chicago. There were fifty or sixty passengers in the two cars. l got the signal to start from the con- ductor and pulled out. We had got under considerable headway, when, look ing back, l saw that an oil car in the middle of the train was on fire. 1 re- versed the engine and whistled for brakes. The conductor and brakeman jumped of, uncoupled the passenger cars, set the brakes on them, and brought them to a stop. Supposing that the brakes on the burning oil cars would also be put on, 1 called to brakeman on the box car to draw the coupling pin between that car and the head oil tank, backing so tha he could do it, intending 10 run far enough to save the box car and locomotive. As l ran down the hill, after the pin had been withdrawn, what was my horror to see that the burning cars were following me at a speed that was rapidly increasing
 The men had not succeeded in putting on the brakes. saw that the only thing that was to be done was to run for it to Brocton, and the chances were that we would never reach there at the speed which we would be obliged 10 make around those sharp, reverse curves, where we had never run over twenty miles an hour. When saw the flaming cars-for the whole six were on fire by this time plunging after me, and only a few feet away, pulled the throttle open. The oil cars caught me, though, before got away. They came with full force against the rear of the box car, smashing in one end and knocking the horses and their keepers flat on the floor.
 The heat was almost uncomfortable, and to do my best couldn't put more than thirty feet between the pursuing fire and ourselves By the light from the fur mace, as the fireman opened the door to pile in the coal, l caught sight of the face | of one of the horscmen, he having crawled up to the grated opening in the end. It was as pale as death, and he begged me for Gods sake to give the
 engine more steam. was giving her then all the steam she could carry, and the grade itself was sufficient to carry us down at the rate of fifty miles an bour. We went so fast that the engine refused to pump. Every time we struck one ot those curves the old girl would run on almost one set of wheels, and why in the world she didn't topple over is some thing l never could understand. She seemed to know that it was a race of life or death, and worked as If she were alive. The night was dark, and the road ran through the woods, deep rock cuts and along high embankments. There we were, laundering along at lightning speed, and only few paces behind us that fiery demon in full pursuit. There were fifty thousand gallons of oil in those tanks at least, and it was all flame, mak- ing flying avalanche five hundred feet long. The flames leaped into the air nearly one hundred feet. Their roar was like that of some great cataract. Now and then tank would explode with noise like cannon, when a column of flame and showers of burning oil would be scattered about in the woods. The whole country was lighted up for miles around. We'll it wasn't long, going at the rate we made, before the lights of Brocton came in sight down the valley.
 "The relief felt was short-lived. Il remembered that train No. 8 on the Lake Shore road would be at the jsnc- ton about the time we would reach it. No. 8 was the Cincinnati express. Our only hope all along the race had been that the switchman at the junction would think to open the switch connecting the cross-cut track with the Lake Shore track. and let us run into the latter, where the grade would be against us, if anything, and where we would soon get out of the way of the oil cars. The switch would | be closed now for the express, and our last hope was gone, unless the express was late or some one had sense enough to flag it While we were thinking of this we saw the train tearing along to- ward the junction. Could we reach the | Juh~eiOu 6GA SAS SWtCu, ana tnG SWlICn l be set back for the express before the | latter got there2 If not, there would be | aA inevitable crash, in which not only we but scores of others would be crushed to | death. All this conjecturing did not oc- cupy two seconds, but in those two sec onds lived years. Good God r l said to my fireman, what are we to do The fireman promptly replied-and he was brave little fellow-that l should l whistle for the switch and take the | chances. 1 did so. That whistle was | one prolonged yell of agony. It was a | shriek that seemed to tell us that our brave old engine knew our danger and had its fears. Neither the fireman nor | myself spoke another word. Thanks be | to God The engineer on the express train, seeing us tearing down that moun- tain with an eighth of a mile of fire in | close pursuit of us, knew in a moment tha: only ono thing could save us. He whistled for brakes and got Lis train at a | standstill not ten feet from the switch. |