The Conductor's Story.

Waikato Times, Volume XXIV, Issue 2012, 30 May 1885, Page 6 (Supplement)

The Conductor's Story.

Imiom ihe WvsuixtiTON Hatchet. SPH\KiN<i of wreck", the worst one I ever saw was that on 3 which occurred at Tyrone, lowa, Rome years ago. You see, No. 5 going east, and No. 3 going west, had orders to meet there. Both trains were late, and were running like the wind. The operator at Tyrone received the order and with it an order lor a freight train that had been standing there to oome on west. In some unnaeeountabla manner, th 9 poor fellow got the ordera mixed, so that when No. 5 reached Tyrone it was ordered to ran on east, while the freight was still held at Tyrone 1 ' Orders are orders ' on the road, and the engineer of No. 5 innocently obeyed the death command. So they shot into the darkness — and to death. " Meanwhile, No. ."tcame tearing down the heavy grade a mile oi two from Tyrone. No. o was rushing on to meet her. There would be a terrible wreck ! Just as No. 5 disappeared fiom view, the operator discovered the mistake. But it was too late. He stood helpless for a moment, paralysed with horror. Then rushing to the instrument, telegraphed as follows to headquarters — " Nos. o aud 3 have met in a terible wreck on the grade east of here. Send cars and surgeons." " And then a mighty orash shook the night air. With an agonising shriek the oporatoi sank to the floor senseless. " Yes, it was an awful wreck. Many were killed and wounded. It was pitiful to hear the poor victims cry, and somo begged to be put out of their misery. Oh, I don't want any wreoks. And we eeldom have one now, for our road is very careful. " The narrowest esoapo I ever had was a good many yeara ago. The road was new then, and I was running a passenger tiain in the west. It was a dreary, rainy, chilly night in March. We had a pretty heavy train, and were making good time despite the bad condition of the road. Soon after midnight a storm came on, and the rain and wind wore terrible. But we had to plough along through it, though there was great uneasiness amongst the passengers, and, to tell the truth, I didn't feel altogether safe myself. •' About ten miles from II we learned that Gamp creek was way beyond her banks, and was rapidly rising. There was a large trestle bridge over this creek, but it was regarded as being perfectly safe. The wind was now blowing a galo, it had turned oold, and <?now was mixed with the pouring rain. But on wo flew, and I trusted to Providence that all would be well. " I had just snuggled down in a seat to

have a short nap, when I was brought to my fo«t in an instant by the frantic shriek of the engine, and tho pounding and the groaning of the rnr-srhrcls on tho trr.ck as the brakes held them last. There wis trouble ah sad. And we v.-tre noarin-; that bridgel Looking out of tho window ft'icad iuto the distance, I saw a hu;o bor.fuv on tho tiack, the fbmeaof which hi up tho imr. un^in m vividly. Tue train "am^to a lull, end wuhin ten feet of the e^g 12, and on ihe vary brink of the nbysa, iwuei the hi\g<s beacon tire. Tho bridges had gono down. " But who built the firo and kept it burning waa the question. Ah, that was easily learned, for fchore, standing in the storm and the cold, \vf>,=? ■% v^nTvn, clasping in her arms a babe, aad about her clung three bhivering childreu. Tbe pa"F?ngcrs hnd rrovvded upon the scsne <no this, and many a hand waa outstretched to load tbe heroio woman and her littlf. ouc3 into a p'.aco of warmth and safety in the tiain. " Theia ahe told her story. She lived in a poor shanty only a fihort distanco from the bridge and had heard it go down with a crash into tho lushing waters. Knowing our train would soon bo due, she built the firo on the track to warn v?. Having no fuel of her own and failing to find any, she had piled her bed-olothes in a heap, lighted it with what scanty furniture her housa contained. She told ua with a aob that baby'b cradl3 had gone to keep tho beacon light .burning. " About that time everybody was blubber.ng. I think ono or two of the ladios were praying, and crying. Bat that didn't last lon^. 'One big, red-faced old man juat took oif bio hat, a tall stovepipe, and went through the train in a manner that would have done urcdit to a«y well-organised gang of trainrobbers—only tbe passengers orowded up to him with their valuables. They Bhowared gold, silver, and paper money into that hat until it was full. Some gave a fifty, others moic, some leas, and one old fellow put in hia cheque and then wiped liia eyea and blew his no3e. Oh, they gave her an o vatic n. It was a heroic act, and one v that no doubt saved many livea. " How much was collected ?" we asked, with mercenary cariosity, as thejjtrain whistled for Aurora. " Well, sir, I don't] remember the exact amount, but euough to buy baby a cradle that would grace the little home which the rost of tha money purchased."