The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1907-05-31
Charged by Sixteen Engines.
BY HERBERT COOLIDGE.

The railroad needed men on the Siski
you grade in the winter of 90; men Do
| less of iron and steel than the engines
driven by them.
For week they had been bucking the
drifts. Back for running start, on at
the bank with full head of steam, a sud
| den burst in the rUar of exhausts, shower
of sparks from two long lines of screeching
drive wheels, few car lengths of snow
forced aside, then with jerk they would
reverse for another charge 1t was catch
as catch can for food and sleep, and back
and forth day and night, sixteen engines
and thirty-two men rammlng the snow
| blockade
was there not as an engineer or fire.
man. only "a lineman with instructions to
snow shoe on ahead and inspect the tele
graph wires. All day long as | worked
up the canon. could hear the SNOW
| fghters-,he signals for reversing, multi
tudinous putting OF engines in sullen re-
treat. the down brakes whistle, the 90
| ahead whistle, prolonged chorus Of bark
ing puffs merging into one long purring
roar, doubling in volume to violent
burst, then quickly dying to nothing
Darkness and binding storm overlook
me as | returned, and the glow of the
headlights rising from the long trench Of
snow gave welcome promise Of food and
shelter. The locomotives had been halted
for some time. They were six car lengths
round curve from the end Of the line.
thought they were at the face OF the
block ade, and blundered headlong into the
fourteen foot cut.
Snow-sho are awkward things to fall
with. The snow packed between the rails
was as solid as pavement, and the shock
knocked me half conscious. | heard the
go-ahead signal and the putting and clank-
Ing of locomotives, and wondered without
alarm if my neck was broken. The en-
gines pulled up bit, then reversed. From
the way they jiggled back and forth |
thought they must be jerking derailed
comrade into line.
| sat up. rubbed my neck, and then for
the first time became aware of danger.
jumped to my feet, and started for the
snow-plow. Two long blasts of the whistle
signaled ''go-ahead. At the same mo-
ment tripped on broken snowshoe and
fell headlong.
ScrambliDg up, plunged at the white
bank. The snow tossed me back and L
realized that the walls had been pressed
aside and packed by the power Of sixteen
engines. The signal for down brakes
sounded, and saved me from being fright
ened to madness.
Then l tried to rid myself of the broken
snow-shoe, but | could not unfasten it with
my numbed fingers. | found my voice,
and yelled like wild Indian; but the
men were busy and round curve, and no
one heard me.
l finally got my knife open, slashed off
both snowshoes, and started on a run down
the track. | rounded a curve into the
binding glare of headlight when the
whistle sounded the reverse, and chOo -chy-
chy choo-chy ,chy clangity bang the
sixteen engines receded down the cut. l
yelled and waved my arms: but the look
out on the snow pillow neither saw nor
heard me.
I had matches and thought of building
a signal fire of my snow shoes, but could
find no kindling. I gave up all hope, and
was sure | must die. thought Of climb
ing out at the wedge shaped face of the
blockade, and turning, raced up the track
through the darkness, only to discover that
the mold Of the long -nosed, broad based
snow plow was more like trap than a
place of ascending.
From afar down the dark trench one
long blast of the whistle signaled down
brakes. For moments that seemed like
hours | stood thinking. The go-ahead
signal sounded, the sharp coughing Of six
teen engines merged into an angry deafen-
ing purr; and still l stood-thinking, yet
without thought.
Of sudden it became clear that | must
burrow or die. But with what was | to
burrow? With quick thrill of hope
reached for my climbers, but did not find
them. Surprising that they had become
detached from my belt by the fall, fun
bled along the edge of the cut, but found
nothing.
Pr-r-r-r-r-pr-r-r-r roared the
sixteen engines The rails were swapping
and singing.
I snatched heavy pair Of pincers from
the other side of my belt. At the same
moment | discovered that | still carried
my open knife; and with weapon in each
hand, began tunnel. A few seconds
later common sense told me to make instead
niche the length and breadth fmy body.
A half dozen strokes showed me that work
with the pincers was wasted effort and [
threw them aside Then | settled down
to slashing the packed snow with my heavy
knife blade.
| was over my furry now. Without
the loss of quarter-seeond by tardy
stroke or one too hurried [ worked at my
niche, from top to bottom and return.
from top to bottom and return Pr-r-r-r
-pr-r-r-r-r reared the engines; louder
and louder sang the rails.
Every sweep of my arm peeled off six
foot strip of snow two inches wide and
knife blade deep. Slash, slash, slash
went, determined, if die 1 must, to die
digging.
The binding headlight swung round the
curve, the cut filled and quivered with a
fresh burst of clamor Then the head en-
CINE whistled down brakes, and footed the
danger signal. There was the thud and
the jar of sixteen engines reversed, and |
felt cheered somewhat and less lonely.
I spared one glance from my task, made
ten more slashes, hattened myself against
the face of my niche, dug my fingers and
toes into the corners, braced my elbows
and knees, and waited for the pillow fange
to scrape off my backbone second. Then
the great blade shot by and shut out the
light, set of resisting drive wheels