Fort Worth daily gazette. (Fort Worth, Tex.) 1882-1891, 1890-05-31
Gaping waters and heapsd upon the ever

on the trains, flying with desperate hast
up the mountain side to elude the flood
| others ne saw swept away with the car
ana swallowed up by the waves; while
few in the frenzy, either fear or despai
had bred within them, cast themselve
into the torrent, to be lost the next mo
ment to all eyes.
Mark covered his face with hi
hands to shut out the terrible picture
The fate of all those whom he had seel
destroyed might be his any moment. Ant
at that moment he thought that onl,
death itself could be more awful than tn
sight of others dying in such gruesomt
way.
And as he was set afioat again he won.
dered what his own end would be. Where
so many were falling he could not hops
TO escape. And then he wondered as Il
his comrade IS fate; Thought also of War
bingham and his sweetheart. If he were
to die now they would meet in heaven
To meet her again was his one great
hope, and all the sting was taken from
the prospect of death by that thought.
On and on he was borne by the swiftly
flowing walers, aud nearer and nearer
drew the great stone bridge of the Penn
sylvauia railway, which even the ter
rible impact of the laundering cataract
had failed to shake.
: The submerged house upon which Mark
was drifting, was floating down the left
side of the torrent, and as it drew near
the bridge, Mark could see the immense
pile Of wreokage which had already
closed up the tall arches of the struc-
ture, and was damming back the water.
Into that great heap of debris he was
fast being carried by the torrent, and in
a few minutes his strange raft was sent
crashing into the mighty pile, coming to
rest in its swift career so suddenly that
Eliot was flung violently against great
beam which was sticking out amongst the
wreckage.
Half daZed with the shock of the con-
cusson, he lay there on the states for a
few moments, and while he was still half
unconscious, other wreckage came rush,
ing down, threatening to bury him in the
ruins.
With the strength of desperation he
struggled to his feet and gazed about for
a means of escape. Down below BIN,
towards the bridge, were acres of over
turned, ruined dwellings, great beams,
trees, rafters and every other conceIv-
able kind of debris, tossed together in
the widest confusion and most mount
ainous heaps.
And amidst this pyramid of ruin hun
dreds Of frenzied beings were battling for
their lives, their despairing cries for help
making the air hideous. From the heap
of broken timbers which lay nearest the
great stone viaduct, dense columns of
smoke were rising, the overturned lamps
and stoves having set the houses afire,
aud soon that enormous mass of de-
vastated homes would be turned into tie
funeral pyre of the unfortunate creatures
it imprisoned.
Mark Eliot recognized his great danger
and at all costs-at any risk he deter
mined to escape it if possible. 1t was
far better. he argued, to be engulfed in
the flood, and thus die quickly, than to
remain there and be swallowed up in the
flames and to perish in the most agonizing
fashion.
But he must be quick if he meant to
avoid such fearful fate; already the
roof upon which he stood was wedged in
BY the last fiotilla of wreckage, and
away up the broad torrent he could per-
perceive other and greater masses of
drifting ruins approaching.
One way of escape there was, and one
,nly. Although the bridge had resisted |
The impetuous onslaught of the wild tide,
he western embankment had collapsed:
he momentarily baffled waves had torn |
! wide, rugged path through the soft |
;raveI; and through this great gap in |
he railroad slope the cataract was pour |
ng itself, tumultuously, thunderously, |
Ike an ocean that had burst its encom- |
passing walls.
With bound Mark sprang from the |
oof, and clambering like a cat I'D the |
Looping sides of the rolling houses he
cached the margin of the wreckage and |
'lunged into the flood.
When he rose to the surface a great /
line log, evidently a broken telegraph
ole, was floating near him. He seized
!, hung upon it with his arms, and with
is legs endeavored to force himself and
. towards the center of the current and
way from the mound of debris.
But this was q difficult thing to accom-
lish, for a strong under current was
owing through the interstices of the
angled pile. and again and again Mark
as cast back and stranded upon the
uins from which he strove to fee.
Not once, but many times he plunged
ito the water, and at last, after much
esperate struggling, he was floating to-
ards the broad cash in the railroad en-
away from the burning wreck
ge and its shrIeklng victims.
With a wild rush he was hurled through
le wide fissure in the railroad slope, and
he passed the solid stone aqueduct of
lie immovsble bridge he noted the blaZ-
g pile of shapeless homes, noted the
zcited crowds on the arches and on the
ige of the broken slope, heard them
louting to him, but could not distin-
lish word, so terrific was the roar of
lie cataract at that point.
He saw someone fling q rope toward
m; the end of the thin hempen cord
IL upon his arm, he grasped it with a
lid hope surging through him, and the
,xt moment he was fighting in the
aters and being hauled in toward the
nd.
But he was not to be saved by that
cans. Suddenly the rope snapped; and
ark went down IN the food again and
as carried swiftly away by the torrent
to the wide valley of black waters, I
htch swept along below Johnstown
idge. !