Audubon Republican. [volume] (Audubon, Iowa) 1894-1925, 1900-12-20

its load of humanity over the Mohave
desert, a great, wide expanse of mid
mountain country whose parched
bosom has exposed many an uncanny
secret of death from thirst and Indian
deviltry. Wearied with the monoto-
nous view of treeless, waterless plains,
the passengers gladly welcomed the
approach of twilight. The sun went
down in an angry glare, outlining the
bare peaks of a far-away range in
fantastic forms, and gradually, as night
came on, there were more hopeful
signs of vegetation. 1t was the Gath
of December, and most Of the passen-
gers were building on spending mer-
ry Christmas in the favored spots Of
the land of sunshine and flowers
California.
Suddenly we heard the warning
shrek of the engine, and saw q scat
tered band Of cattle flying away in
terror from either side of the trtack.
Again the engine shrieked, the train
jerked nervously and seemed to sway
uncertainty on its course.
The next moment we were bounding
terrifying manner. The cries of star
tied women were drowned in the roar
Of escaping steam, and panic-stricken
men looked vainly for means of es-
cape. A group of Mexicans, awakened
from sleep by the Jar, plunged head
long through an open window as
though the devil were after them. The
train finally spent its speed, and the
thoroughly frightened passengers
emerged to learn the number of the
dead and wounded, and to tender what
aid they could. The engine was COM
pletely hidden in a great cloud of
steam, which marked its position about
half the length of the train. When
the steam finally exhausted itself, a
sad wreck was exposed. The tender
Of the engine was upturned, and the
engineer sat upon piece of wreckage
dazedly nursing an injured hand. The
fireman was some distance away, his
hair and whiskers singed by the hot
outpour from the engine. Neither was
seriously injured, and not a passenger
was scratched. Beside the track, shiv-
ering in the throes of death, lay a
handsome steer-the cause Of all the
trouble. His neck had been twisted by
a mad rush at the coWcatcher. AS the
engineers eyes fell upon the form of
the animal a smile Of satisfaction
spread over his wan face. as he said:
That critter must have been in the |
bull fights at some time in his career,
for when he spied that red flag yonder
thn tahor ba chnnly haaH
viciously and refused to leave the track
with the rest of them. l slowed up
and whistled several times to give him
chance, but he only snorted defiantly,
kicked his heels in the air and kept on
his stubborn course. Finally he turn
ed, and l opened the throttle wide,
thinking that the best method of
throwing him clear of the track. With
an angry roar he came full at the en-
CINE, his head bent low to the track.
We all know the rest"
The steer at once became an object
of great interest to the relic fend. One
man secured a horn and another cut
out tooth, and the next day various
camera views were taken of the vail
ant animal that had wrecked a train.
We were twenty miles from the next
station, and the eastbound passenger
was due within an hour. Luckily
telegraph operator was on the train
and the wires were hastily tapped so
that the dispatchers could be informed
OF the accident and hold the trains
both ways.
We passed a cherries night on the
desert, and Christmas morning found
us a disconsolate party. There was no
dining car attached to the train, and
those travellers that were not provided
with lunch baskets rallied at the i'll
luck that had placed them in so mis-
cradle plight Finally, some of them
went on a foraging expedition, and
down the track few miles they locat-
ed a section house controlled by Mex
leans. Here they appeased their hum
ger on frijoles, chile con carne and
the other warm dishes of the natives
A wrecking train at length arrived on
the scene. but the work of repair was
slow and tedious. Several yards of
track had been torn up, and it was
necessary to construct a "shoo-hy"
around the wreck. This took the
greater part of the day Meanwhile
the passengers looked on in a helpless
way, and all vowed that they had never
passed a Christmas amid such desolate
surroundings.-C. N. Stark.
@oof1 VIII rfoU