During The Night They Tacked On An Engine, With Its Great Lamp Eye At The Back Of Our Car (We Are The Last Carriage), And Every Few Minutes This Monster Gave A Tremendous Snort, But Nothing Awoke Hedley, Who Slumbered Peacefully Through It All.

We got up early, rushed off to the scene of the disaster, as did all the other passengers.

It was marvellous that the engine went over that bridge, for really the rails were almost suspended in mid air, but fortunately for us it did, or we should have followed and telescoped, and probably been hurt or killed, the baggage wagon being suspended between the engine and cars, all on one side and down the bank close to the lake, the window broken through which the guard jumped out. We trembled for our luggage, which was all there. The lakes and gaily coloured hills that elsewhere I should admire, make our railroad so dangerous that we have to creep along, sometimes over long spidery wooden bridges, and again on most shaky and uncertain looking embankments, and round sharp corners; every now and then we stop for no apparent reason, and then all rush to the platform of our car to see what is the matter. Once a party of the railway officials got out and ran back; we thought some of our luggage had fallen out, but it seems one of the bridges over which we had just passed was rather shaky, and they went to investigate.

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