Mr. Apthorp saw a woman trying to get out of the window of a car, high up amid the ruins; she was half way out and called for help. He hastened to the rescue, but the flames arose between him and her, and she perished there.
Two men were seen, sitting in their seats, surrounded by the flames, but they perished and no one could save them. One man stood by his berth and burned to death, holding to its side. A gentlemen, supposed by some to be Mr. Brunner of Wisconsin, and by others, to be Mr. P. P. Bliss, the sweet singer, was seen to emerge and then to go back, saying that he will perish with his family.
A gentleman was seen in the midst of the flames, standing as if surrounded by a wall of fire, until he fell. The most appalling sounds and sights shock every heart, and send a shiver of horror through every frame. The howl of a poor wounded dog echoes through the valley.
A woman, whose children have already perished, was seen lifting up her hands and beseeching help, and was at last rescued, among the last, awfully burned, and died in a few days from her wounds. The last one removed was the fireman, and then this poor dog, which had kept up its piteous howling.
The living were driven from the wreck, and could only stand and look upon the awful scene. A cry arose—a horrid cry; it was not a shriek; it was not a groan, nor even a cry for help, but it was a plaintive, melancholy wail—the despairing cry of those who knew that they must die. It was a prolonged, an agonized, a heart-rending moan; it was the sound of Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Then all were dead, and silence settled down upon the scene—the awful silence which comes upon the dead.
The parched lips were sealed forever; the stifled breath could no longer send forth a cry or groan; the carnival of death had at last silenced all its victims; the slaughter was complete. “Blood and fire, and vapor of smoke.” The flames leaped and danced, and lifted high their heads, and death was exultant in all its forces. The canopy of blackness arched the snow-covered valley, while the fiery billows rolled between. All that man could do was to stand and look upon the scene, appalled.
