er was still over the track and we proceeded at a
snail-like pace. Just at the edge of the bridge we stopped; Dad looked
over the situation and said:

"The water is within two inches of the fire-box now, and it's doubtful
if we can get across, but here goes and God save us all."

The sensation when we first struck that bridge and realized that we were
literally on a water support, was anything but pleasant, and I reckon
most of us uttered the first prayer in many a day. Slowly we crept
along, and just as we were in the middle of the structure the draw
sagged a little, and _kersplash!_ out went the fire. A great cloud of
steam arose and floated away on the evening air, and then, there stood
that iron monster as helpless as a babe. Dad looked around at us eight
birds perched up on the tender and said:

"Well I reckon you fellers won't pound any brass in Houston to-night."

Pleasant fix to be in, wasn't it? A mile and a half from land, perched
up on a dead engine, surrounded on all sides by water, and no chance to
get away. There was no absolute danger, because the underpinning was
firm enough, but all the same, every man jack of us wished he hadn't
come. Night, black and dreary, settled over the waters, and still no
help. Finally, at eight o'clock, the water had receded so that the tops
of the rails could be seen, and two of us volunteered to go back on foot
to the yard office for help. That was just three miles away, but nothing
venture, nothing have, so we dropped off the hind end of the tender and
started on our tramp back over the water-covered ties. We had one
lantern, and after we had gone about a half of a mile, my companion who
was ahead, slipped and nearly fell. I caught him but good-bye to the
lantern, and the rest of the trip was made in utter darkness. To be
brief, after struggling for two hours and a half, we reached the yard
office, and an engine was sent out to help us. At twelve o'clock the
whole gang were back in the city, wet, weary and worn out.

The next day the water had entirely subsided and work was resumed. We
learned then of the horror of the flood. Sabine Pass had been
completely submerged, and some hundred and fifty or two hundred people
drowned. Indianola had been wiped out of existence, and the whole coast
lined with the wreckage of ships. That there were no casualties in
Galveston, was providential, and due, doubtless, to the fact that the
whole country for fifty miles back of it is as fl