About four o'clock in the morning the train came to a sudden stop. The jar was so pronounced that it woke nearly all of the passengers.
Thinking that possibly we had arrived at our destination, I raised the window and peered out.
Instead of being in the heart of a city, however, I soon discovered we were in a belt of timber land. Huge trees lined the road on both sides, and ahead I could hear the flowing of a mountain stream.
The train hands were out with their lanterns, and by their movements it was plain to see that something was up.
I waited in my seat for ten minutes or more, and then as a number of passengers left the car, I took up my bag and did the same.
A walk to the front of the train soon made known the cause of the delay. Over a small mountain stream a strong wooden bridge with iron frame had been built. Near the bridge grew a number of tall trees, and one of these had been washed loose by the water and overturned in such a manner that the largest branch blocked the progress of the locomotive. The strong headlight had revealed the state of affairs to the engineer, and he had stopped within five feet of the obstruction. Had he run on, it is impossible to calculate what amount of damage might have been done.
"Don't see what we are going to do, except to run back to Smalleyville," said the engineer, who was in consultation with the conductor.
"Can't we roll the tree out of the way?" asked the latter official.
The engineer shook his head.
"Too heavy. All the men on the train couldn't budge it."