Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1907-01-30
HARD FIGHT FOR LIFE
Experience of a Jerseyman
After Fall From Train.
CAUGHT IN SNOW DRIFTS
Love O. Life in Fiction Real in Mr..
Lowndes' Adventure.
HAT THE CAUSE OF ACCIDENT
Fell Asleep but Awoke Numbed,
Bleeding and Alone, but Reached
Home Safely at Last.

! NEW YORK, January 30.-In Jack Lon.
! don's gruesoRe story, Love O. Life'-the
| story Of a starving gold-seeker of the
! frozen north, crawling and wriggling across
desert of snow until, a raving mailman
| he was rescued from the edge Of the grave
there is nothing more terrible than the
| experiences of P. X. Lowndes of 20 Broad
street, this city, who lives in East Orange.
| After being thrown from the platform of
| a Lackawanna train, travelling at full speed
Mr.. Lowndes awoke to consciousness with
| his hands and feet frost bitten, his body
covered with blood from head to foot and
| his senses so dulled that it required all his
ebbing strength Of mind and body to keep
himself awake, as he crawled through the
| snowdrifts toward a faint light on the Jer-
| sey meadows 1t was Love o. Life fight
| ing against apparently vain hope, that
saved him.
Lying helpless at his home but at last
| on the road to recovery in spite of his
many injuries, he told yesterday tale of
suffering and of miraculous escape, the
equal of which is rarely heard outside of fic-
| tion
Mr.. Lowndes was detained at his office
later than usual last Saturday afternoon.
| He got away just In time to catch a $40
ferryboat from the foot of Barclay street,
making close connection with a Delaware,
Lackawanna and Western train in Hobo
ken. The train had just emerged from the
tunnel and was speeding toward the Pas
sale river when Mr.. Lowndes attempted to
go from one car to another
Grabbed for Hat
AS he stepped across the platform, grasp
ing the iron railing to steady himself, the
train began to turn sharp curve. A
guest Of wind blew off his hat Involun-
tarily, in a moment of carelessness, he let
go the rail and made futile grasp for the
hat. The train lurched suddenly as the
apex of the curve was rounded.
In an instant Mr. Lowndes was cast head
long into the darkness. He remembers
that he made wild, frutless effort to
catch hold OF something. Then there was a
binding moment Of horror as he flew
through the air, and after that, nothing.
1t must have been midnight, as nearly
as he can now calculate the time, when
ne awoke. For almost five hours he had
this then. All he knew was that he suf-
fered terribly. When he tried to move his
hands and feet stuck to the snow. Even
the side of his face was frozen to the
ground.
Loosening one hand with difficulty he
slowly raised it to his head. When he
drew 1t away 1t was covered with blood.
Then he saw in the moonlight that the
snowdrtft under him was stained red in
streaks But his wounds had stopped
bleeding now. Half-dazed though he was,
he congratulated himself that the blood
had frozen over the great gashes on his
of bandage to prevent his bleeding to
DEATH
Tried to Rise.
He wriggled painfully until he no longer
lay fastened to the snow. He tried to rise,
but only sank back gaspng. Neither his
arms nor his legs would support him, and
gradually, as he gathered his wits, he
knew that he was cut and bruised all
over, and that all his extremities were
paralyzed with cold. The only consola-
tion-he remembers vaguely that he once
more congratulated himself-was that no
bones seemed to be broken.
But he knew he must make another eff
fort to move before it was too late. Slow
ly, gritting his teeth against the pain, he
managed to rise to kheeling posture.
When he found he could do no more he
began to crawl.
In front was a high embankment. The
railroad tracks must be at the top, he
thought, although he could not see them.
He crawled up. up, up-an inch at time.
1t might have been ten minutes or an
hour, he says, before he finally neared the
top. 1t seemed years journey. Lut
finally he could look over the crest of the
embankment and down the tracks, prob
other side the semaphore light of train
signal, near which, standing out lonely
against the sky, was switchman's tower.
From the towers window lamps rays
to slip away. He fell back. Striving to
catch some support, just as he had done
In falling from the train platform. he was
precipitated down the embankment again.
He felt as though he would never stop
rolling. When he did stop, he lay painting
on the same bed Of blood-stained snow
from which he had crawled long time
before.
Again he crawled, now straight ahead,
now sidewise, always cautious about OBJ
tanning firm kneehold after each ad-
vance.
More than once the sleepy feeling re-
turned. When he was half way up, it
became SO strong that he almost gave up
the fight; but the memory of the signal
tower, the Love O. Life and the knowl-
edge that sleep meant sure death in the
snow kept him going. Up. up, up! Once
more he peered over the embankment
Carefully feeling his way, he overcame the
two-foot climb that remained. He sat be-
side the tracks now. By stretching out his
hand he could touch the cold rail-
No One Heard.
He shouted but nobody heard him. The
cars were so close that he had to bend
his head very low to keep them from
striking him. Even then he wanted to
sleep, and he bit his lips until the blood
came in struggling against the drowsi-
ness.
When the train had gone he started to-
ward the signal tower. It was repeti-
uon OF the clhD UP tne emDdnKment, eX-
cept that the level footpath alongside the
tracks, trodden hard by the track walk
ers, was an easier road 1t was SO smooth
in places, to be sure, that one could push
himself along as though he were sled
and that was less trouble than pushing
ones knees through soft snowdrifts. The
hardest fight, harder even than forcing
himself forward, was the fight to keep
awake. The drowsy feeling could not be
driven away; 1t must be fought every sec
ond; he could not afford to forget it, to
rest, for to rest meant to sleep, and sleep
meant death.
Love o. Life.
But the Love O. LIFE conquered. At
the foot of the tower the suffering man
summoned all his strength and shouted
for help. Already he had called several
times in vain, as he crawled toward the
tower, but this time he nut into the cry