"The cry to be saved from those who saw the first boat was heartrending. Some of them threatened to jump into the water if we did not take them aboard. But it was impossible with the scant boat supply to take all away at once."
THOUSANDS MAROONED
Relief parties from South Bend were the first to arrive on the scene. They found hundreds of people huddled together in the court house square, which was three miles from the nearest dry land; hundreds more were marooned in the upper stories of buildings already rendered unsafe by the high water. There was no heat, no light, no water, and sanitary conditions were horrible. The only motor boat had broken and it was too dangerous to venture into the raging torrent in rowboats. This made it impossible for the South Bend relief volunteers to get blankets and food to the sufferers.
TALES OF STRUGGLE
Death faced hundreds of persons who were clinging to the roofs of buildings, where they sought refuge. Currents of muddy water from ten to twenty-five feet deep were running through the main streets at twenty miles an hour.
Harry Lumley, a despatcher, lay on a table all Wednesday in the Peru station of the Lake Erie and Western Railroad, which the water had invaded, and kept open the line for relief trains.
Dr. W. A. Huff, a dentist, started to South Peru with an unknown man Tuesday night. The boat capsized and Huff lodged in a tree, where he remained until Wednesday morning. His condition was critical.
No effort was made to count the dead. "Our energies are being devoted entirely to saving those still living," said Lieutenant-Governor O'Neill. "It is impossible for us even to try to learn the whereabouts of the bodies just now."
A VIGILANCE COMMITTEE
Citizens, finding lawlessness in every block of the city above water, organized a vigilance committee with orders to shoot looters.