THE MOVING DEATH.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LII, Issue 59, 3 April 1909, Page 4

THE MOVING DEATH.

HOIUIOItS oi' A IiUU-SUDE. A bog-slide is tii use J by the water, ill which every bo<; rests, becoming so augmented by rains and thaws as to Uoal the peat over its boundaries. Few can appreciate the horror of a bog-slide except tliu poor people who happen to live in the track of that moving death. 1 have lived 'through one. It occurred on tile banks of the rivel Shannon, and it happeaed at night, iu Uecember. i'lie little Irish cottager to be found in this district are practically of a universal pattern, about thirty feet long by fifteen wide. You enter the house through the kitchen door, and lind yourself in the largest room of the house. It is living, dining, and reception room, as well as kitchen.

The lloor is of trodden earth, the walls of rough masonry, and the rooi of thatch. All the poor people have of this world's goods is stored beneath this roof, and when this goes, then they have lost their all. THE NIGHT ALARM.

We had retired to bed about nine p.m., our usual hour, f had done a hard uay a work in the lurnip-lield, and was soon asleep. Suddenly 1 woke up, to lind my bed sliding into the earth. 1 was almost standing up, lor the foot of my bed luiu sunk iiuo ihe soft ear.tli, and the trout wall ol ilie house appeared to be lucr&iiy leaning over the head. 1 jumped out on what used to be the lloor, but found myself up to my waist iu mould, and the house was rocking violently. Then there was a crash a.the llood struck ithe front of the Jiousc, and the rooi fell in with a loud "sog that told me that my parents in tne little room oil the other side of tile kitchen were doomed if 1 did not gel to them quickly. Two beams had struck slanting against the wall and saved mc. 1 reached up and tore a hole in Unroot', and, as well as 1 could, I ploughed lny way through the swirling, muddy waters, and saw at a glkuiee that ail my people were doomed. Everything within niy short range of vision was'swamped. Landmarks 1 luul known from childhood were now ,no more; all was swept away by .that merciless ami all-destroying llood. 1 made my way, hall swimming, hall ilounderiug, through the surging bog, until 1 came to a little mound, it was not more than a quarter of a mile away, but, as far as 1 can judge, it took mc the best part of two hours to reach it. After 1 had thrown myself down on the top —for 1 was very youug, and quite exhausted—l could hardly realise the awful extent of the calamity. Here I was, only sixteen years old, and alone in the world, with all 1 had to love and care for swept away by this suddeirupheaval of Nature. ATTEMPTS AT RESCUE. But over oil my left was old Biddy Murphy's cottage. Was she gone, toor Where were the Rileys and the Gradys? Oh, would morning never come': 1 was still' with cold, and mv heart was frozen with despair. And now 1 heard a cry. Once heard, and it never will be forgotten. It was the "keen," or "Irish cry." Over the desolate waste of moving bog it came, and as the sound reached luy ears 1 was forced to join. Soon 1 heard the sound taken up on every side, and as I turned to look i saw a cart come floating on the muddy waters, and, sitting and holding on with the tenacity of death, were two people. I -shouted. There was no response, anil ill a moment the carl, with its grim cargo, weut floating and swirling past my haven.

But the longest night lius an end, and as aoon as the day dawned I could sec that ithc face of the country for miles round was all changed. A'ot a house was visible, not a- tree, or clump of peat, or sign of a road could 1 sec. All—al! was swallowed up in that moving, death" dealiug quagmire. Presently there was a shout from the' direction of the river Shannon, and i could see one of liuinncss's steamers making it« way in the direction of the spot where 1 htood. I waited in agony, for 1 was wet through, and my clothes were frozen together. Horror had almost driven nie mad, and I remembered wondering, ill a stupid sort of way, if the steamer would reach the spot where I stood. Of eoiirsc, had I been properly sane. I would have known .that she could not sail through an ocean of thick iniul. SAVED AT I,AST! However, about noou tile mud and peat settled down. The movement had stopped, and 1 could juist see the top of our little chimney sticking out of the liver of mud.

The police brave* fellows! made llieir 'way towards me by .means pf planks. They laid down one, wont to the end, ami laid down another. Jt was a hard job, but by nine a.m. J was on board the steamer—.saved! Luckily, there were not many cottages on that portion of the bog which moved, and my parents. with all their stock, together with poor Biddy Murphy, weri* all that perished, Wc "found the cart four day* after. Judge of my anguish when 1 t,aw that the bodies, which lay half-naked on its rough bottom, were those of my poor father and mother. .May God give ithein peace! They had escaped, onlyto be frozen to death on the wild desolation of the bog.—"Answers."