Some Narrow Escapes

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXIX, Issue 17, 26 October 1907, Page 49

Some Narrow Escapes

SENSATIONAL RESCUES FROM T HE MOS J REMARKABLE PERILS, WHICH PROVE THAT AS LONG AS THETE IS LIFE THERE IS HOPE.

(By ROBERT E. HOOD.)

OCCASIONALLY a sensational rescue, such as that of Hicks the California miner, or Seufert the New York fireman, is accomplished

•while, practically speaking, all the world looks on and applauds the rescuers as it congratulates the rescued. But more often the narrow escape from death is something known only to the person who has taken the first steps into the valley of the shadow and to the few friends to whom he has related his experience.

John Hyslop, official measurer of the New York Yacht Club, is known personally to many American yachtsmen, and at least by name to most of the readers of newspapers. Yet not more than half a dozen intimates ever heard the story of his struggle in the borderland. Let superstitious readers mark that it was Friday, October 13, of the year 1898, that the Mohegan left Southampton for New York. Before morning broke on October 14, three-fourths of those whose names were on the ship’s list had passed from life to death. At seven o’clock in the evening, when the voyage down the Channel had brought them to a point almost opposite the Lizard, the saloon passengers were at dinner, and the captain was just about to leave the bridge in order to join them, when there was a crash forward. To those in the dining saloon the shock did not appear to Ire serious, and not even the women manifested alarm. But a minute later the vessel struck once more. The captain appeared at the door of the saloon, and ordered all passengers on deck immediately.

AN INDESCRIBABLE SCENE

Followed within the next ten minutes a scene impossible to describe. Already the steamer was settling, and heroism and discipline had begun the battle with brutal cowardice and helpless despair. John Hyslop can tell little of what passed before his eyes; his most distinct recollection is of a tongue continuously clicking in a dry mouth. He saw a boat lowered and immediately swamped; he realised that the reason why the second took sol ong to launch was because the tackle had become jammed. For the rest, it was impossible to find place in it in any case, for there were women and young children who must first be saved. Other men beside him seized lifebelts and flung themselves into the sea; he stood with clicking tongue explaining to himself an easy and simple device by use of which the tackle of boats would never become jammed. Then, as the vessel lurched forward, he found himself running, and thinking clearly and consecutively as he ran. They must have struck on a rock. If so, what rock 1 Probably the Manacles, judging by the time at which the shock occurred, for one of the officers had said at the dinner table that they were just off the Lizard. Then it was just possible that the boat would not sink after all, but remain wedged between two of the rocky teeth, or settle on a ledge long enough to enable the lifeboat from the nearby station to take off any who remained on board.

As he reached the mainmast, to which instinct had driven him, he felt the ship going down. Quickly, with the activity of the trained sailor, ne ran up the shrouds half-way to the truck. From below came sounds of floating objects dashed against The sides—the cries, cursings, prayers, orders—all had ceased. Again the vessel dropped, and dropped so suddenly and so deeply that it was with difficulty that he kept his head above water.

He forced himself to climb higher, and with great difficulty reached the truck. But now, with no sudden lurchings, but With a steady and gradual settling, the

Mohegan sank lower and lower. Even at the truck the water overtook him and submerged him. Fighting for his life, he once more got his head clear and struggled yet a little higher. And still the relentless flood pursued and overtook him. This time, as the waters engulfed him, he felt a tremendous pull on his foot. Holding his breath, he gripped the rattlings and dragged himself upward still another yard, when once more he found himself with head free. The strain upon his leg relaxed, and soon appeared beside his own the head of the second officer. Both were too exhausted to speak, and when, a moment later, one of the second cabin passengers fought his way through, the three merely looked the question that each was asking. Apparently, it was only a matter of moments, and all would be over. Then a new question leaped into their eyes; for, as a quiver ran through the whole vessel and reached far up the mast where they hung chin deep in the water, they knew that the keel must have struck something—most probably a ledge of rock.

The next few minutes were an eternity. But the water rose no more, and it was soon possible for them to drag themselves to positions a trine less uncomfortable.

PREPARING FOR THE LAST

But the ordeal had scarcely begun. It was now only eight o’clock, and long hours of darkness had to be endured before t-uey could so much as gain an idea of their situation. Each hour would l>e made up of sixty minutes, and with the undertow dragging the ship any minute might bring the end. Through those long black hours they whispered one to the other. Names and addresses of loved ones -were exchanged, and messages were repeated over and over so that they might be learned by heart. All three were brave men, but each whispered as though the Presence hovering near might embrace him and drag him down did he so much as raise his voice.

At last the dawn came, and they were able to get some idea of what had happened. They were wedged tight on the Manacles. But how tight? What might be expected at the next tide? Would the water rise or fall? If it rose—

Looking long and earnestly at the rocks against which the waves were still beating, they discerned at one spot a patch of dark sea wood just above the normal water-mark. Almost simultaneously Hyslop and the second officer called attention to it. No necessity to say much; each of the three knew that if ■within the next hour or two they should see that black patch no more, there was little likelihood that any messages would be delivered in America. Another eternity passed before the second oflicei’ murmured, “Thank God!” The rim of black was undoubted!}' much higher out of the water. Soon after, they were able to note how much farther out of danger they themselves were.

Then, when eyes were free to look in the other direction, they. saw the lifeboat coming, and soon they learned that the number of saved, which had lieen forty-two out of one hundred and sixtyone, was now forty-five. Edward Whymper, greatest of Alpine climbers, has had many narrow escapes from death; but none so narrow as that by which he missed destruction in the early days of his career when the Matterhorn was still unconquered. He had arranged for guides to accompany him in an attempt to reach the top, but was obliged to wait for a day or two until they were free. In the meantime, he determined to scale one or two of the lower peaks atone, and get a good working knowledge of the first part of the journey. Leaving his hotel at Breuil, he ascended to a point where there was a rough cabin, spent a short time in admiring the magnificent view, then started to return to the valley. Thinking that Uia ice axe which ha carried was merely

an encumberance, he detached the head from the stock and left the former behind him. Very soon, however, he discovered that the steps which he had cut on his way up had been obliterated by the strong sun, and that it would be necessary to cut others Still, this appeared to be an easy task, and he undertook it without the slightest misgiving.

HIS FATAL CARELESSNESS.

It may I s that he did not regard the undertaking with sufficient seriousness, and became careless for one fatal moment, for he slipped and fell forward. Strapped between his shoulders was a somewhat heavy knapsack, the weight of which caused him to pitch on his head.

He landed twelve feet below on some rocks, then bounded off and went heels over head into a gully. About two hundred feet ahead of him was a precipice of about eight hundred feet to ar glacier below. From rock to rock he bounded, each plunge downward being longer than the one before. Finally, when close to the yawning rift, he was thrown high in the air, and fell on some jagged rocks that caught what was left of his clothes. The elotli would not have held him, but the momentary detention allowed him to dig his feet into a deep snowdrift and clutch at the nearest projection. Cut and bruised in a hundred places, he still had strength enough left to hang on. At last he ventured to release one hand from the rock and staunch some of the cuts with snow. This revived him somewhat, and after another short rest he struggled up and was able to put a little more than the six feet that had remained between himself and the edge of the precipice. He had not made more than fifty feet, however, when he fainted from loss of blood. After about two hours of unconsciouseness he regained his senses, and, working slowly and carefully, was able at last to make his way to the valley. But of all the remarkable escapes of which there is record, the most remark•able is that of Dick Creedon. Even now, after two years have passed, it seems almost incredible that a human being could have passed through such an experience as his, and have lived to tell the tale.

Richard Creedon is a “sand hog.” a private in that great army of subterranean and subaqueous workers which has invaded New York during the last few years when tunnels have been bored under the skyscrapers and beneath the beds of the North and East Rivers. On March 26, 1905, he was at work in the forward compartment of the tunnel which was being constructed from the Battery to Joralemon-street, Brooklyn, as an extension of the Manhattan subway. He had learned when he went down that the ordinary pressure of seven thousand pounds of compressed air had been increased to ten thousand pounds, to support the roof, as the engineers believed that the point which had been reached was one of the weak points in the river.

He had lieen busy for about a couple of hours, when he noticed that quite a sharp draft of air was pressing upward. He knew what this must mean. Some-where-in the roof there must be a crack. A rapid inspection discovered the fissure, an opening not more than a quarter of an inch wide. Already, however, some of the earth on the top of the bore was being forced through the small aperture by' the force of the compressed air. Creedon shouted a warning to his companions, then ran to a pile of hags filled with sawdust and hay which were kept handy for just such emergencies. Grabbing two of these, he ran up a ladder, and attempted to plaster them against the rapidly widening hole in the roof.

The force of the air that had shoved the earth through the opening not only held the bags in place, but pinned the faithful tunnel worker to the top. He says that he cannot remember whether he even attempted to free himself. Suddenly the gap widened, a big hole was scooped out almost in front of his face, and Creedon found himself going through seven or eight feet of mud and rock. Perfectly conscious, his one thought was to save himself from this rock, and ho put his hands and arms in front of his face, “just as though I was boxing with a feller who was (Hitting it all over me,” in order to protect himself.

Then he hit the water, which at this point is about twenty-five feet deep. He went through this like a bullet allot from a gun, and was hurled another twenty feet in the air. The next instant ho found himself back again in the water, swimming aa though he had dived from the end of a pier, and yelling like an Indian.

HIS REMARKABLE RECOVERY.

A tug in the river saw the geyser with the figure of a man at its apex, and heard the shouts. When those on board dragged Creedon on deck, he had only just relinquished his hold on one of the bags of sawdust, and his hat was floating nearby. Asked how he felt, he replied that he was all right, except that the cold had gone to his marrow. A big drink of whisky was administered, with remarkable results. Creedon. like the majority of “sand hogs," whose constant dread is that, they may contract the "bends,” had been a teetotaler for years. The liquor caused him to vomit, and the deck of the tug was strewn with sand and pebbles which he had swallowed without knowing it. Even the story of Hicks was not so graphic as that of the French miners who were taken alive from the mine at Courrieres a year or so ago, after all attempts at rescue had been abandoned for more than two. weeks. For twenty day's the men had been entombed in a distant gallery, and that they' finally were restored to their families was due to the wonderful work, and still more wonderful strength of character, of one of their number, a miner named Nemy. That any of them retained their senses —and half of them were temporarily insane when rescued—was due to the courage of this leader, who, during the days and nights of anxious waiting, Imre striking testimony of the truth of the saying that “Frenchmen are always gay, no matter what happens.” Finding the other twelve in a sheltered niche, where they' had sought refuge from the gases, the indomitable Nemy organised them into committees of exploration, of commissariat, and of entertainment. He himself was chosen chairman of all three. He it was who suggested that it would be a novel experience to dine in "country style” by eating the bark from the supports of the tunnel ; he who led the party that, crawled over the bodies of dead comrades seeking an outlet from the prison; he who discovered not only the dead horse, but the carrots which had formed part of its provender; he who insisted that the sleep of despair was at least impolite when he had a budg.:t of new stories and new songs which he had brought from Paris only a year before when he his youngest sister had married a notary; and he it was who, with eyes sunk deep in his head, but still unquenched of their fire, met the party' bent on salvage of property rather than lives, which finally ventured into the workings. But the doctor who was summoned took care to bandage those eyes, and the eyes of all of the other terrible wrecks of manhood before he allowed any of the thirteen to he taken to the mouth of the pit.