DBEADFUL EXPERIENCE IN A MISSOURI TORNADO.

Temuka Leader, Issue 1147, 11 September 1883, Page 3

DBEADFUL EXPERIENCE IN A MISSOURI TORNADO.

Mr Mitchell, who lives some six miles south of West Plains, had hts house Blown down on the night of the tornado. Hearing the approach of the terrible storm, he told his wife to gather the children and get into the cellar with them as speedily as possible, at the same time bracing against the outside door to prevent it from bping blown open, and calling to his assistance his oldest child, a lad some ten years of age. The cellar was no more than a hole excavated under the floor, scarcely large enough to hold a half-dozen persons in a standing position, and reached by a trap. After holding the door alone for a moment, Mitchell turned to see if the bov was beside him, and as lie was not there concluded that the lad had also taken refuge in the cellar, ana, abandoning the door, he also jumped into the hole, and not. a moment to soon, for as he did so the crash came. The logs of his house flew in all' directions, and { the lamp went out on the instant, leaving all in utter darkness, only as lighted bv the momentary flashes of the most brilliant lightning. All was done in an instint, and them came a calm, while tbs rain poured in torrents into the pile of debris. It was then he heard the muffled sound of a child, half cry, half choking. Ho felt around in the group of children, and one was missing. Then he jumped out upon the floor, and, guided by the sounds, crswled over the fallen timbers till he reached the little fellow's bed. One of the top logs of the side of the house had been throwiuuwardly, one end resting

upon a fetv end logs of the, house that remained in place, and the other end dropping upon the bed, which it had crushed nearly to the floor, while upon it, with head covered with quilts to shut out the horrors of the night, lay the boy with the heavy log directly across his face, Mustering all his strength, Mr Mitchell lifted the log and released the little prisoner, who, strange as it may seem, was more frightened than hurt, but would have smothered to death in a few moments had he not been relieved. The little cellar undoubtedly saved the lives of most of the family, for the house had fallen down nearly to the floor, except at one end, and the logs that composed it were piled promiscuously inside.—West Plains, Mo., Journal,