The Portland daily press., 1892-11-19

fore most of the onlookers had collected
their senses.
Just at this moment I arrived upon
the scene and witnessed all that AFTER
ward occurred.
Now there are two entrances and exits
to and from the Welland; one, known
as ethe Cut, being on the upper or west
side of an isolated bluff called Hog is
land, and the other-the original chan
Melon the lower or east side.
1t was from out this last named pas
sage that the child had foated, and con-
seqr1ently he was much nearer the falls
than if he had emerged into the Niagara
from the outN
Lyons of course took the east channel,
but he had quite 400 yards of slack wa
ter to row over before striking the larger
river, and when he reached it the little
scow with it's precious freight was at
least that distance from shore and much
closer to the rapids than even the bold
est oarsman would ordinarily dare to go.
So utterly desperate appeared the
chances of rescue that, as he sped down
Chippewa creek, the shuddering spec
tators, among whom was Mrs. Lyons,
with one accord called out to the gal
LIANT boatman not to throw away his
own life In so mad an attempt. But the
brave fellow paid no heed to their cries.
Out to the broad bosom Of the Niagara
he pushed, and was presently flying
obliquely down and across stream with
the speed of a racing shell. His wife
screamed aloud in an agony of appre-
hension, and to even the coolest among
us it seemed all too horribly certain
that we should witness double tragedy.
More and more earnestly, without a
break or skip, and with never relaxing
strength, the experienced sculler bent
to his work, glancing now and again
over his shoulder at the precious prize
he had determined to win, or die in los
ing.
To us, who, hardly daring to speak Or
breathe, watched the fearful venture,
its success appeared well nigh impos-
sible. The child could perhaps be
snatched from the boat before reaching
the rapids. But what then? Neither
he nor his rescuer, we felt convinced,
could ever regain the shore.
The poor women-Lyons' wife and
Jimmy's mother-sobbed pitifully as we
all hurried down the edge of the river
so as to keep abreast Of the skiff. None
Of us dared to encourage them by a
hopeful word, for not one of us believed
that either would ever again be clasped
in the arms of husband or son.
The tiny scow was now quite 600
yards from shore, and with gradually
accelerated motion was drawing fright
fully near the rapids. But the pursuing
boat went four feet to its one and was
swiftly closing the gap between them.
The innocent babe had at last become
alarmed, and as Lyons drew near he
stretched his little arms imploringly
toward him-a sight which drove the
women nearly frantic and caused tears
to roll down more than one manly
cheek.
ssOh, huShl hush! not a word nor
cheer yeti" some one said in a choking
whisper as the two boats came together.
s.The fight is still to win!'
AS he ranged alongside Lyons pulled
in one oar, leaned over the gunwale,
caught up the child and lifted him into
his own boat. s'Too late! Oh, too lateP
shrieked his agonized wife. And indeed
it SO seemed to each one of us.
But then the noble fellow, cool as if
there was no danger within a thousand
miles, reshipped his oar and did the only
one thing which could offer a possible
chance for life. He did not vainly at
tempt to stem the current by rowing up
stream. nor even directly toward the
shore, but turned his bow quartering
down, and pulling with nerves Of steal
and giant strength shot with arrowy
speed diagonally athwart the rivers
course, and in less than five minutes
landed safely at the head of the channel
running between Streets island and the
mainlandl
Then-but why go on? No language,
much less my poor pen, can adequately
describe the scene which followed.
This incident is matter of history, |
presume, but I may inform those who
now read of it for the first time that the
Royal Humane society of England soon
after sent to Mr.. Lyons it's gold medal
in recognition Of his daring deed-how
daring no one unacquainted with its
scene can realize.-W. Thompson in
Romance.