St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1915-10-06

were weighted down with the snow on
the leaves and seemed to be humbly
prostrating themselves before some
unseen spirit. They made such a
dense thicket that it was possible to
see only two or three rods in any di-
rectlon. The white snow on the green
leaves gave tint almost weird in it's
effect in the dark forest. It began
raining again before we got to the
Home Camp and 1 decided to stay
there until Tuesday when we planned
to start for home. The Squire was so
anxious to look again for two moose
he had scared up near the lake that
he went back through the rain and
stayed alone Monday night in the
camp. The rain continued all day
Tuesday and it was not until after
noon that the Squire, the guide and
two men from Crooked Lake got back
to the Home Camp thoroughly
drenched but not cold on account of
the vigorous exercise they had rowing
across the rough lake.
Start Home and a Catastrophe.
Wednesday morning, September 20,
1t did not rain and we started out for
home. Two cartridges were shot be-
fore we got out of the woods and we
reached st. Jean de Dieu about 1870
p. m. We got some dinner and start
ed the automobile. For several miles
the road was a mass of gr asy mud
and it was almost impossible to keep
the machine on it, even with chains.
Our plan then was to ship the auto
on a freight car to the border and
come home on the cars. AS We got
nearer T'rOi PiStolle, the railroad sta
ton, the roads were dryer and the
Squire said he hated to get on the
cars as his vacation would end right
there. So we decided to try the roads
as far as River du Loup. We found
them as easy to ride over as when we
! went in and decided to keep on by
auto.
The next morning we started as
early as possible hoping to get home
within two days. Things went well
until we had passed through a little
village and railroad station called Old
Lake Road. We started down a mar
row lane and were approaching
grade crossing. On the other side of
the crossing we could see a hand car
partially in the highway but thought
there was room enough to get by it.
AS we got up to the track a nan
standing by the hand car saw there
was not room enough to pass and
threw up his hand for us to stop. The
Squire stopped instantly with the
front half of the auto on the railroad
track and in stopping SO quickly STALL
ed his engine. 1 jumped out and at
tempted to crank the car but the en-
CINE would not start. After l had
made two or three unsuccessful eff
forts the section men began yelling,
''The express, the express" and came
running up to help put the auto off
the track. We started it but front
wheel went off the planking and
caught inside the rail. There was no
hope then and we simply scattered to
safety from the flying debris. Al
though the auto was in plain sight to
the engineer for a quarter of a mile
or more he did not slacken the speed
of the train. Full head on the engine
struck the auto and quicker than you
could say jack it was a total wreck
about so feet away, with fish, part
ridges, rifles and grips scattered in
different directions. The engineer de-
cided to stop then and everybody pill
ed out to see who was dead. The
Squire was right there, however, with
smile on his face and ready to take
charge of the salvage work. l climb
ed on the train with everything that
would hold together and came home
while the Squire got man from the
garage TO come and prepare Uno
wreckage for packing and had it haul
ed to the station where it was ship
ped for home. A very small b Il
would have held all the whole pieces
of the car.
Thus tragically ended tour that
had been instructive through its
views of the great French country,
with all its quaint customs, its courte
Gus manners, it's white washed houses
and barns, it's well kept rail fences
made from rails that antedated the
exploits of Abraham Lincoln as a
rail splitter, its old mud ovens, its
hand looms and household arts that
have survived the centuries; impress
sive in the silence of its great expanse
of forest, the FURNISHED solitude of
It's lakes under the Harvest Noon, In
the ozone of the spruce and balsam.
the moaning of it's pines, the laugh