The Prince George's enquirer and southern Maryland advertiser. (Upper Marlborough, Md.) 1882-1925, 1895-12-13
THE RUSH OF THE AVALANCHE.

Imagine, if you can, the very roughest
bit OF nature ever seen, or take newspa-
per, crumble it into ball, and, placing it
on table, suppose all its raised parts to
be peaks and the hollows ravines; picture
the sharp edges as ridges more or less tim
| bered, the hollows bare, smooth, or steep as
the roof of the steepest house you know
| OF, and you have an idea Of the mountains
and gorges of the SLOGAN.
Let US suppose we are standing near the
summit of one of these ridges on bright
sunny day in January. 1t has been snow
ing continuously for days, and the ''beau-
tifuP' lies in plenteous profusion every
where, six to eight feet deep in the timber
ed ridges and any depth you like in the
ravines. The sun gets warmer; up above
you, near the crest of the mountain, little
| bits of crystals detach themselves and go
rolling down the slope; tiny crack forms
at your feet and widens across the gulch;
| in an instant the whole snowy mass is in
motion, and with Kissing, rustling sound
and an upheaval along the edges goes
hurting down the gorge. Faster and fas-
ter it glides, the air is filled with snowy
spume; where you stood it was rivulet,
1000 feet below it is mad torrent the
noise increases as it gains momentum.
Rocks, torn loose, broken to atoms on
ground to powder; trees uprooted and
broken to pieces; logs smashed to plin-
ters. At half mile on its path it pre-
sents crest of 20 to 80 feet in height and
moved faster than an express train woe
betide any living thing in its way now.
Nothing made by man can stand before it;
the wind of its creation is a hurricance, a
cloud of snow and dust follow in its wake;
in seething torrent it pours over rocks
lessly on, leaves in its track broken and
crushed fragments of rocks and trees.
The thunder dies, is gone, and the ava
lanche pas ed. Down at the foot of the
slope, mile away, mountains of snow
Tossed up in hopeless chaos, a wild
tangle of rocks, earth, trees and logs re-
main to mark the side, and often alas, too
often, the bodies of the brave men caught
in its rush lie buried in its icy embrace.
Ali around you can hear. day and night,
ths distant, muffled roar of distant ava
lanches. They come and go at all times
and at all hours; each year new one is
creted They have claimed their blood
tribute; each has its record of braye men
done to death. These avalanches are
everywhere; there is not wagon road or
mountain trail that does not cross the
path of several On the Kalse-Slogan
Road to New Denver there are five or six;
on the Winter Road to Sandon and Cody
Greek four All trains to the mines cross
and recross these moving destroyers, yet
in all the season of greatest danger there
is more traffic on these roads and trials
than on many highways of civilization.
Marvellous escapes are an every day mat
ter.
No one hesitates or delays on account of
the peril to be incurred. Often, very Of
ten, the snowslide passes few feet from
the oreladen pack team, but not always
with warning. In an instant men and
animals are overwhelmed and tossed like
straws in the boil of seething snow. 1t
is mereiful that death is instantanet Us
then.
The force of the wind created by one of
these large slides is well-nigh incredible.
In the valley of the Illecillewaet, on the
line of the Canadian Pacitit, treetops are
cut off by the force of the wind on the OPP
posite side of the ravine through which
the avalanche descends. The snow Is
pressed into the hardness of ice, and liter
ally tears or ginds to powder everything
in it's path. The many deplorable fatali-
ties that have lately occurred in the Slo-
can are partly due to the destruction of
the timber on the wooded slopes by the
fearful fires of last summer, trees holding
up the snow and preventing sliding. We
read of many brave and heroic acts, but
surely the patient courage that daily takes
even chances with death on the slopes and
in the mountains of the SLOGAN deserves
more than passing tribute.