Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1889-09-03
TRACK OF THE FLOOD.
How the Conemaugh Valley Looks
From the Limited Express.
MARKS OF THE DES0LATION.
Animated Scenes Where the Work of Re-
StOratiOn Progresses.
TOBACCO AND BUCEWHEAT FIELDS
MARKS OF THE DES0LATION.
TOBACCO AND BUCKWHEAT FIELDS

Pennsylvania Railroad just now is peculiar
ly interesting. Johnstown is, of course, the
main point of interest. Hardly does train
arrive at Altoona before there is rush OF
passengers for the rear cars. An observa-
tion car is attached to the regular morning
express from New York. The Chicago linn
tied has a saloon car at its end. Passengers
sit upon the back platform, which has a
high brass railing, and are grouped at the
doors and windows. All are anxious to see
the scene of the greatest disaster that ever
happened upon the continent, for more lives
were lost in the Connemaugh Valley in June
last than in any OF the bloody battles of the
late war.
The train pulls out of the Altoona depot
very quietly. There is no weird footing Of
the whistle. Up the steep grade, among the
wild gorges of the Alleghenies, the coaches
gradually ascend. The dark green mount
aims are bathed in sunshine. Long clouds
OF black smoke trail from the stack of the
powerful locomotive. The craggy peaks are
partly hidden under the dark hemIock foli-
age.
THE WONDERFUL HORSESHOE.
Up the hills you climb, turning the
points of startling precipices and skirting
ravines so deep that the rays of the sun
rarely penetrate them. You reach the
southern eaulk of the great Horseshoe Bend.
1t is several hundred feet lower than its
mate, in clear sight on the right. The huge
horseshoe, with its blazing coke ovens at the
toe and its little lake at the frog of the hoof
arouses universal interest
Higher vet the train ascends, and blacker
trails the smoke from the locomotive. The
smoke wraps the peaks in its fold, and is
dissipated in the atmosphere above the
curves below you. The gorges grow deeper.
The coaches of the regular express train
are seen below the bend, climbing the
mountain in your wake. Suddenly the
magnificent scenery is shut from view by a
plunge into a long, dark tunnel. From the
back platform you watch the light at the
entrance grow smaller and smaller until it is
dimmed by the smoke, and finally disap-
pears. Five minutes pass before the engine
emerges into daylight. A few moments later
and it is at Cresson Springs, the summit
of the Alleghenies. Its magnificent hotel
is partly concealed in park of surprising
beauty. The lawns, paths and the beds of
exquisite flowers are greeted with exclama-
tions of delight.
ONLY A CRYSTAL STREAM.
The coaches begin to roll down the west
ern slope. A crystal stream dashes through
a small defile on the right. Its waters
reach the gulf of Mexico through the Cone
maugh, the Allegheny, the Ohio and the
Mississippi rivers. 1t joins the Conemaugh
some distance below and trickles through
ill-fated Johnstown. A little depot next
appears in a nest of houses on the left A
sign above its door informs you that it is
the village of South Fork. 1t nestles at the
base of mountain cone. The dam that did
all the damage was the other side of the
Conemaugh. The food struck the gorge in
which we are running a little distance below
the village. Looking back from the LETT,
beyond the junction of the ravines you see
part of the torn dam. The slope below il
looks as though it had been swept by the
rapids of Niagara. The earth is heaved
into ridges and scanned with sand, until the |
junction is reached.
Further downward rolls the train. The
valley swerves to the right and becomes
rocky defle. 1t makes short angles and
takes serpentine twists. The railroad re-
peatedly crosses the stream. All its bridges,
including one nearly 100 feet high, were car
rled away. Temporary wooden structures
span the gaps, while squads of workingmen
below are cutting stone for more per-
manent spans. The rocks in the canons are
secured and SCARED by the action of the
flood. Great uprooted trees. and the frames
of houses and barns, are left in the eddies
and upon the sharp turns in the lodges.
Huge mounds of refuse are banked below us.
Three miles away and the valley again
wIdens.
BY A GIGANTIC HARROW,
The ground is torn up apparently by the |
teeth Of a gigantic harrow, and the vale |
looks as though it had been showered with |
paving stones. Houses fringing the hillside |
mark the site of the hamlet above Johns |
town. Its heart was torn away Two new
frame dwellings stand in the debris. The |
railroad runs through the center of the vale |
on prepared ridges They were washed
away at the time of the disaster. The deyas-
tatlon Is so great that it is hard to find the
bed of the stream. The vale, however, is
being cleared. Scores of teams and hun
dreds OF laborers are at work on each side of
the track. Temporary switch tracks run
out into the debris, and are used in clearing
away the refuse. The tents of the laborers
CLEAN like huge mushrooms among the trees
on the side of the hill. The pick and the
shovel are in use everywhere, and the ham
mer and saw are at work as the space is
cleared.
Johnstown heaves in sight on the left. A
murmur OF astonishment from those in the
car is heasd. Buildings. brick and frame,
are standing apparently uninjured. You
quickly see, however, that it is only the
upper part of the town, mile or more above
the railroad viaduct, where the food was
damned. The houses are on the left bank
OF the stream, where the ground is high and
where the force of the water was much less
than below. They were entirely bevond
the rush of the back water, which began at
the stone bridge. Ragged brick buildings
and the gutted dwellings appear in the out
skirts OF what is left.
EVERYTHING IS GONE.
And then there is a clean sweep down to
the Vladuet; everything is gone The tract
is complete level. Men are working like
bees TO prepare foundation for new city.
Ihere is city of tents upon a shaded
plateau above the town. The tents have
lost their brightness. They look old and
dirty. A Grand Army veteran migbt fancy
hat one of A. P. Hills brigades was en-.
,amped there.
As you shoot down the river the view ;s
hidden by long lines of freight cars await
ing chance to climb the slope. There are
of impatience among the In
ensely obserVant passengers. The last rays
II the setting sun are crowning the hills.
At intervals the travellers catch glimpses of
nen quitting work, for the dav is done
twenty seconds more and you are whisked
'ver the fatal viaduct. 1t is a small stone
three spans. You get a glance
t the desolatlon above you, and that is aIl. No
race OF the deadly debris packed above tbe
Iaduct by the pressure of the current is left.
ne AT, AT, however, seems tainted with the hor-
or. The taint undoubtedly comes from what
emains OF the mud and ashes but Won cannot
VOID lancylng II an indication that not all of