The department watchers, fearing being flood-bound, sounded the fire call simultaneously with the break in the levee.
"When the horses, which were hitched in record time, reached the street," said Vincent, "we were met by a wall of water which must have been ten feet high. The driver was forced to turn and flee in the opposite direction to save the team and the apparatus."
INSTANCES OF SELF-SACRIFICE
The dark colors in these incidents were lightened here and there by stories of bravery exhibited by many of the flood prisoners.
A woman with three children marooned in the upper floor of her home on the edge of the business district called to the oarsmen:
"I know you can't take me off!" she cried, "but for the love of humanity take this loaf of bread and jug of molasses to Sarah Pruyn down the street; I know she's starving."
Twice the boatmen attempted to take the food, but waves that eddied about the submerged house hurled them back.
LOOTERS AT WORK
Numerous stories of looting were told, and many prisoners were locked up. In most cases these had entered houses and had been searching for valuables. A gang of roughs went through the southern part of the city late at night instructing the people to extinguish all lights for fear of a gas explosion and then began raiding. The police dispersed them.
All day and all night strings of automobiles were going back and forth. Those coming to Dayton were seeking friends or relatives. Those going back had people to take back with them.