m the train and up the mountains. To tell
this story takes some time, but the moments in which the horrible scene
was enacted were few. Then came the tornado of water, leaping and
rushing with tremendous force. The waves had angry crests of white and
their roar was something deafening. In one terrible swath they caught
the four trains and lifted three of them right off the track, as if they
were only a cork. There they floated in the river. Think of it, three
large locomotives and finely varnished Pullmans floating around, and
above all the hundreds of poor unfortunates who were unable to escape
from the car swiftly drifting toward death. Just as we were about to
leap from the car I saw a mother, with a smiling, blue eyed baby in her
arms. I snatched it from her and leaped from the train just as it was
lifted off of the track. The mother and child were saved, but if one
more minute had elapsed we all would have perished."

Beyond the Power of Words.

During all of this time the waters kept rushing down the Conemaugh and
through the beautiful town of Johnstown, picking up everything and
sparing nothing.

The mountains by this time were black with people, and the moans and
sighs from those below brought tears to the eyes of the most stony
hearted. There in that terrible rampage were brothers, sisters, wives
and husbands, and from the mountain could be seen the panic stricken
marks in the faces of those who were struggling between life and death.
I really am unable to do justice to the scene, and its details are
almost beyond my power to relate. Then came the burning of the debris
near the Pennsylvania Railroad bridge. The scene was too sickening to
endure. We left the spot and journeyed across country and delivered many
notes, letters, etc., that were intrusted to us.

We rode thirty-one miles in a buckboard, then walked six miles, reached
Blairsville and journeyed again on foot to what is called the "Bow," and
from thence we arrived home. On our way we met Mr. F. Thompson, a
friend of ours, who resides in Nineveh, and he stated that rescuing
parties were busy all day at Annom. One hundred and seventy-five bodies
were recovered at that place. An old couple about sixty years of age
were rescued from a tree, on which they came floating down the stream.
They were clasped in each other's arms.

President Harrison's private secretary, Elijah Halford, and wife, were
on the train which was swept away, but escaped and were