Year: 1878

lOr now SlOulu 1uRn IuSu anu DaNl


Morris come over, and the railway ger


tlemen; yes, sure


"And the railway people won't objec
Ito my going over?"


They've all knocked off for day, an


there won't be a soul near the bridg


but yourself"


Then of course Ill 60 over it"
found that there were certain diff


culties in the way. The railway bridg


crossed the estuary at point about


quarter of a mile from the little inn tina


formed the extremity of the town at
spot where its channel was narrowed t
distance of three quanters Of mile
The unfinished bridge was constructed
of piles firmly driven into the bed OF th,
river, from which rose huge piers O
timber to the height of about forty feet


Along these were massive balks, destined
to support the platform of the bridge
whilst each pier was strengthened ant
supported by its neighbor by arrange
/ dllu LICE.


| When 1 reached the bank of the rive
with my guide, Evan Rowlands, founG
that there was a considerable hiatus be
tween the shore and the nearest pier
about hundred yards. Evan, however
was prepared with plan for reaching
it. A friend of his was the master of the
little sloop, the "Ann JONES'" which wa:
lying in the tiny brook above. He and
his mate were now on board of her, and
they had got their little dingy with them
Evan would borrow the boat and drop
down with the stream and deposit me al
the foot of the nearest pier.


"But why not ferry me right overG"
asked.


mot possible" said Evan; there are
shadows and quicksands at the other
side, which at this time of The tide are
dangerous"


We made our way along the road
which overlooked the estuary, till We
came TO the little harbor Evan had no
difficulty in borrowing the dingy, and
we were soon afoat and shooting quick
ly down the stream.


1t was almost dark now, for although
the sun was not yet down the storm that
was gathering in the horizon obscured
his light. Great volumes of cloud and
vapor we're driven up before the wind,
which howled and moaned intermittent
ly as blast succeeded blast, and died
away again. The wind and tide in op-
position made the water pretty rough,
and our boat danced up and down in a
very lively way. Presently the black
skeleton of the bridge loomed up as
through the mist, and Evan deIterously
brought up his boat in the little eddy
that was formed by the abutments of the
pier, and then he called to me to jump
from the stern of the dingy on to cross
piece that formed a sort of platform y
foot or so from the waters edge.


1 jumped and landed safely on the
balk, and then I found that my way up
wards was by climbing the nearest pier,
across which were nailed rough, irregu
lar slaves, which constituted what is
called workman's ladder. Ihad no in
tention of undertaking any acrobatic
feats, and the idea of climbing up to that
giddy height by such rough unreliable
supports was distasteful enough. l
wouldn't try it would go back in the
boat to dry land once more. But the
boat had spun away on the tide, and was
now far out of ear shot, or indeed eye
shot either. There l stood, then, in the
midst of a rushing, raging sea, upon a
balk of timber, embracing huge black
pier, the head of which was lost in the
gloom and mist overhead. 1 couldn't
stay here; Imust get across the bridge
at all hazards, and my only way was
upward.


Invent up slowly. step by step, testing
each frail splintered staye, ere l trusted
my weight to it. More than one broke
away in my hands and fell into the sea
below. But when reached the top !
thought all this danger would sUDn he
over. should find firm, secure plat
form-a rail, or at least a rope for the
hand.


When came to the top of the pier l
saw stretched out before me beam, sus-
pended, as it seemed in mid air, a mar
row beam-more like rope it seemed
to me-stretched over this wild abyss of
raging waves-that, and nothing else.
There were footprints in the narrow
ridge of timber; it was not more than
two feet wide at the broadest, and the
sight of them gave courage. Men had
passed before me; 1 would pass, too.
And so,without giving myself moment
more to think, l stepped, and the mo-
ment when letting go with my hands /
stood upon that topmost round of the
ladder and balanced myself for an in
slant as l placed my foot upon the plank
that moment in which l seemed to
quiver and sway to and fro, high upon
this giddy perch, beyond the ken of any
human eye-a moment of dizzy terror,
of strange, whirling thoughts of instincts
to cast myself headlong into the sea, was
in sensation as any ordinary week of
placid being; and yet it came and went
like any other moment, and stood erect
upon the beam and began my perilous
way.


heard the wind afar of, believing
among the breakers ON the bar. Iheard
it screeching and bowling on the flats.
1 felt a moments calm, the strange, un-
natural hush, and then the rush and leap
of the storm as it hurtled by me. Dash
ing the salt spray into my eyes, it came,
seized all the loose corners of my ap-
parel, and cracking them like whip
lashes, carrying away my feeble breath
in its wild course, but leaving me-yes,
thank God-leaving me still balanced
upon my plank.


The gust had cleared the mists for q
space, and could now see before me,
though indistinctly enough, but 1 could
see that there was only another length
of unprotected balk; beyond that was q
broad, safe platform of timber, stretched
from pier to pier. Oh. to feel that plat
form safe under my teeu ! traversed
the balk almost on q run. / must reach
it safely before there came another gust
of that fierce wind.


Iheard it coming, but 1 was almost
home-yes, home, for that rough, un-
sheltered platform, on this rude night,
seemed like home to me. was step
ping firmly and quickly along. Sud-
denly chasm seemed to open under my