Page:St. Nicholas (serial) (IA stnicholasserial402dodg).pdf/230

attention was fixed upon Mr. Blanchard. The cross-bridge had broken in the middle, and as the broken end sprang up, Mr. Blanchard was nearly slung off by the recoil. But he clung on desperately until some of the men had recovered to seize him and drag him up to safety.

THREE HUNDRED FEET ABOVE THE RIVER.

STRINGING THE LAST PAIR OP WIRES ON A CARRIER BEARING TIE STARS AND STRIPES.

The fallen foot-bridge did not drop into the river, but was caught in the tangle of suspended cables, Some of the burning timbers dropped into the water, narrowly escaping a ferry-boat that was passing under at the time. There was nothing for us to do but to run on up to the tower and give what aid we could there, in fighting the fire. Things were in a pretty bad way. The cotton-waste and oil-soaked timbers, and the barrels of tar and paint and oil, made the very best of fuel, but to fight the fire there was only a single harrel of drinking-water, which had already been used to no avail. The fire-beat could n’t begin to reach us, and fire-engines about the

“ALL STRANDS WERE SQUEEZED TOGETHER TO FORM A CORE.” (SEE PAGE 740.)