e pitched like a ship in a storm. Within two
inches of your feet rushed the muddy waters of the Conemaugh. There were
no ropes to guide one and creeping was more convenient than walking.

One had to cross the Conemaugh at a second point in order to reach
Johnstown proper. This was accomplished by a skiff ferry. The ferryman
clung to a rope and pulled the load over.

Confusion Worse Confounded.

It is impossible to describe the appearance of Main street. Whole houses
have been swept down this one street and become lodged. The wreck is
piled as high as the second story windows. The reporter could step from
the wreck into the auditorium of the Opera House. The ruins consists of
parts of houses, trees, saw logs, reels from the wire factory. Many
houses have their side walls and roofs torn up, and you can walk
directly into what had been second story bedrooms, or go in by way of
the top. Further up town a raft of logs lodged in the street and did
great damage.

The best way to get an idea of the wreck is to take a number of
children's blocks, place them closely together and draw your hand
through them.

At the commencement of the wreckage, which is at the opening of the
valley of the Conemaugh, one can look up the valley for miles and not
see a house. Nothing stands but an old woolen mill.

As Seen by an Eye-Witness.

Charles Luther is the name of the boy who stood on an adjacent elevation
and saw the whole flood. He said he heard a grinding noise far up the
valley, and looking up he could see a dark line moving slowly toward
him. He saw that it was made up of houses. On they came like the hand of
a giant clearing off his tables. High in the air would be tossed a log
or beam, which fell back with a crash. Down the valley it moved sedately
and across the little mountain city. For ten minutes nothing but moving
houses were seen, and then the waters came with a roar and a rush. This
lasted for two hours, and then it began to flow more steadily.

The pillaging of the houses in Johnstown is something awful to
contemplate and describe. It makes one feel almost ashamed to call
himself a man and know that others who bear the same name have converted
themselves into human vultures, preying on the dead. Men are carrying
shotguns and revolvers, and woe betide the stranger who looks even
suspiciously at any article. Goods of great value were being sold in
town to-day for a drink of whiskey.

A supply store has been establ