r of the
heaped up houses of Johnstown. Every now and then the gleam of an axe
and a group of stooping forms tell that another ghastly find has been
made, and a whisper goes round among the hundreds of watchers that other
bodies are being brought to light.

How many hundreds or thousands there are who found death by fire at this
awful spot will never be known, and the people are already giving up
hopes of ever reaching the knowledge of how their loved and lost ones
met their doom, whether in the fierce, angry embrace of the waters of
Conemaugh, or in the deadly grip of the fire fiend, who claimed the
homes of Johnstown for his own above the fatal bridge.

Every hour it becomes more and more apparent that the exact number of
lives lost will never be known. Up to the present time the disposition
has been to under rather than overestimate the number of lives
sacrificed.

A Mother Rescued by Her Daughter.

A daughter of John Duncan, superintendent of the Johnstown Street Car
Company, had an awful struggle in rescuing her mother and baby sister.
Mrs. Duncan and family had taken refuge on a roof, when a large log came
floating down the river, striking the house with immense force, knocking
Mrs. Duncan and daughter into the fast running river. Seeing what had
happened, Alvania, her fifteen-year-old daughter, leaped into the water,
and after a hard struggle landed both on the roof of the house.

The members of the Cambria Club tell of their battle for life in the
following manner: They were about to sit down to dinner when they heard
the crash, and knowing what had occurred they started for the attic just
as the flood was upon them. When the members were assured of their
safety they at once commenced saving others by grasping them as they
floated by on tree tops, houses, etc. In this manner they saved seventy
persons from death.

The Clock Stopped at 5.20.

One of the queerest sights in the centre of the town is a three-story
brick residence standing with one wall, the others having disappeared
completely, leaving the floors supported by the partitions. In one of
the upper rooms can be seen a mantel with a lambrequin on it and a clock
stopped at twenty minutes after five. In front of the clock is a lady's
fan, though from the marks on the wall-paper the water has been over all
these things.

In the upper part of the town, where the back water from the flood went
into the valley with diminished force, there are man