The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1936-05-09

EDITORS N0TE-This rowing reporter
for The Times goes where he pleases.
when he pieaseS, in search. of odd stories
sSeut this and that.
DUEBLA, Mexico, May 9.-The
l. train from Oaxaca back to
Puebla runs only three times a
week. It's an all-night trip, and
you have to make Pullman reserva-
tons days ahead.
I didn't know that, so when I
went to get tickets I found the
Americans had bought up all the
berths. and there was no place for
us poor MeXicanS to sleep except in
the day coach, sitting up.
But it happened that I ha66
struck up an acquaintance with th{e
flreman-one Luis Arceniega, WHO
was in the United States Navy dur
ing the war and spoke English-so
Luis said, Come on up and ride
on the locomotive with us"
So up 1 went-for ride on a To-
connective. at night, in a strange
land, on narrow-gauge tracks.
through terrifying mountains.
I sat on the fireman'S seat, on
the left-hand side of the cab.
Three little bulbs dimly lighted the
cab. could see the engineer across
the top of the curved boiler.
The fireman, when he wasn't
turning valves, stood behind me
and talked 1t was an oil-burner,
so the fireman didn't have to
shovel. The headlight made a sur
prisingly bright path in front of us.
IT WAS rough riding The locomo-
Il tive bounced up and down. and
made lunges to the side, so that I
had to hold on to the window sill.
l couldn't see how the galloping
locomotive could possibly stay on
the tiny little track.
The noise was terrific. Every
thing seemed to shake. The oil
burner made a heavy fluttering
sound that hurt your ear drums.
Levers and rods ratified and banged.
The roar of the wheels, and the
putting from the smoke-Stack, en-
veloped the light clatters, gathering
it all into one colossal, constant din
Oaxaca lies in a wide valley. The
train has to climb over the edge OF
this saucer.
AS we neared the crest of the
ridge, an hour out of Oaxaca, we
went slower and slower, we labored
and huffed. Finally you could have
walked much faster than we were
going. The engine puffs were sharp,
and far apart. The wheels would
spin, and the engineer kept jerking
a little lever, sanding the tracks.
I asked the fireman if we would
make it. He said he thought so. !
asked if they ever failed to make it,
Sometimes, he said. What do you
do them" I asked. "Oh, just back
up and take another shot at it," he
said.
But we did make it.
nor three hours we rolled precipl-
u tously downhill, around contin-
uous sharp curves, following a river
gorge. For three hours the engineer
never opened his throttle, except to
start the train after station stop.
The train rolls faster than we can
take the curves. The engineers job
reverses itself. Instead of keeping
the train going, he has to slow it
down. Just before every bend, he
has to put on the brakes.
= The engineers name was Juan Or
tega. I have never seen any one
more attentive, more serious. At
first I was nervous when we went
rocking into those turns, but after
a while 1 was as calm as the en-
gineer. He almost never took his
eyes off the track. He worked con-
stantly at his levers and valves.
After 10, we saw little sign of life
along the tracks. Village were pitch
dark. We stopped at stations where
not soul was stirring. I saw dog
or two cross the tracks, and I think
We killed a cow.
=
"TE Wormed farther down into
w gorge, and the mountains on
each side got higher and higher.
The curves became something
constant in my brain. The whole
thing assumed the level sameness
of visions seen in delirium-nar-
row tracks ahead, bright path of the
headlight, rush of wind past the
cab window, mountain wall, curve,
brakes, blast Of escaping air,
around we go, straighten out and
pick up speed, another curve, slam
Oh the brakes again, around we 60
it became a monotony of noise and
jolting and curving INTO the dark
ness.
began to get sleepy. At placs
called Tomellin, at l o'clock in the
morning. we stopped for water.
gave the fireman some extra siga-
rets, climbed out of the cab, SAID
"bueunos noches" and went back to
the day coach, bent on sleep.