The Bennington banner. [volume] (Bennington, Vt.) 1858-1894, 1892-06-24

Somer'S horse to. If failed to emerge
from the cut in time, horse and rider
would be ground down by the con-
struction train. Even if the engineer
should see me before 1 entered the tun-
mel, the curves were so short he would
be unable to lessen the speed of the train,
and once entered the tunnel, with the
locomotive following me, no power on
earth could save me.
And now, as l realized how much de-
pended on my GOODNESS and presence of
mind, the confused feeling gave place to
a GOODNESS and self possession that sur
prised me. There was no doubt about
it, could hear the construction train
rounding the curves near the river
edge. The scream of the locomotive
sounded in my ears like warning of
death.
At the same instant l beheld little
Tins golden curls waving from side to
side as he trotted, all unconscious of
peril, homeward. Back of me Numbered
the locomotive. l ikened it to the
angel of death; the subdued roar of the
train was like the sound of the angels
wings. My life-little Tins life-all
depended on the distance the train was
from us.
Two plans presented themselves
clearly to me. l might spring from the
horse, leave it to take its chances gallop-
ing through the tunnel. and grasping
Tim, hold him against the yielding,
sandy bank he was toddling past happily.
Or might lift him up and urge the
horse to his utmost through the tunnel.
As thought of Bob Somers' horse, of
the horrors that might ensue in the tun-
mel in case the horse threw the train off
the track, my course was decided on the
instant.
l galloped down to Tins side; he had
turned on hearing the horses hoofs clat-
tering over the ties and roadbed, and
stood looking up at me with smiling
face. Leaning toward him, calling to
him to give me both hands, lifted him
suddenly, grasping him in a fierce sweep
and held him close before me as urged
the horse onward.
Tins face, as he looked into mine,
displayed terror. He chung to me in
stinctively, closing his lips firmly. No
sound escaped him. The iron steed
followed fast along at my back with
dull roar. 1t was race between Bob
Somers' steed and the iron horse. Bob
Somer's' steed fairly bounded when
the roar of the iron horse swelled into a
warning volume.
On, on he sped, until suddenly the
light of day was excluded. The sullen
roar was silenced for time. l breathed
freer. The danger was not so imminent
after all.
Suddenly an awful sound struck terror
to my heart. Bob Somers' horse snorted,
trembled, snorted again, then shot for
ward suddenly as almost to unseat me.
The locomotive had entered the tunnel!
Have you ever realized the similarity
the tread that heavy iron wheels bear to
the steady trot of thoroughbred? Stand
on railway bridge in the silence of the
night and listen to the rush and roar of
the locomotive going and coming, and
you will understand me clearly.
The awe inspiring tread of the light
ming footed steed following me
obliterated all other feelings for a
time. The earth reeled and rocked be
meath me. 1 pictured to myself an
atmosphere charged with the heat and
glare of the painting iron monster as it
rushed down upon horse and riders; saw
in my mind man, boy and steed hurled
to the side of the tunnel, ground re-
under the wheels. Among
all the vivid experiences of my life-and
l have survived a battle charge, ship
wreck and railroad horrors-none ever
impressed me with the horror 1 felt in
the short space of time l was in that
tunnel! listening to the murderous
wheels rolling down upon us.
recalled the horrors of calamity
that stunned the nation-a railway dis
aster where scores were sacrificed. Then
as now the earth seemed fairly to yawn
before me as l clapped my hands to my
ears to shut out the screams of nv
fellows. In flash of time the lights in
the crowded coaches were extinguished;
there was a shock as of worlds coming
together, crash and roar of escaping
steam, followed by the swapping and |
of timbers, the grinding of iron |
and stone and wood in indescribable |
confusion. Such scene as the stars |
shone on that winters night l trust |
human eye may never witness again, |
Shapeless limbs scorched beyond |
recognition; faces blackened, CHASTITY,
leadless trunks; isolated limbs, a |
long tresses waving here, a
land thrust up there; the cracking,
'eething flames licking up, devouring |
empowering all.
1 rode blindly, dazed, into daylight,
With all my senses strained to their ut |
most tension. WOODBURY. lay peacefully |
n the bright sunlight off to the right. 1 |
Gould see the church spires and court |
house across the top of the bank. There |
vas one chance in thousand, chance |
or Tim and ME.
1 shook my feet free of the stirrups,
swung Tim around suddenly to the left,
1t the same time swinging my right leg
,ver the pommel of the saddle, and
plunged rather than leaped into the bank
VI sand and fine gravel. Our plunge set
he sand in notion; but held Tins
ace downward; held my head down
ward while the train Numbered past
Then l slid and staggered upon my feet,
ubbed the sand out of my eyes, now
blurred with tears, and Rugged Tim in
delirium of delight over our miracu-
Gus escape.
AS the construction train disappeared
rom view, and l urged Tim forward to
place of safety, he pointed to an object
elow us, where l beheld quiyering
nass-all that remained of the gallant
.orse.
Bob Somers' horse was crushed into
fielding, pulpy, lnanimate lump, lying
here beside the rails, his head twisted
ack under his neck, shorn of his fore
eet, bleeding, bruised and buffeted be-
ond recognition.
1--WE beat the railroad, didn't we?"
aid little Tim, looking up at me with a
ace whose pallor contrasted strangely
nth the stains Of sand and gravel. Il
Tas the first word he uttered from the
loment picked him up.
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