A Night Of Terror

Fortunately there were no snakes in the immediate vicinity that I could discern, though but a few feet distant I could observe several lazily stretched upon the ground. I concluded to take a desperate chance, as the confinement and torture of mind were driving me mad. I put my plan into action by desperately throwing the coverings from me and was on my feet in a second and running at breakneck speed.

PACED BY DEATH.

How a Brewery Hand raced for his Life with Giant Knives

When Abraham Sapiro of Paterson, N.J., practiced running in his boyhood days and earned laurels as a sprinter, he probably did not dream that some day he would have to race for his life with competitors not of flesh and blood.

Sapiro has charge of the mixing vats at the Katz brewery. Some of the vats were empty the other day, and the opportunity for cleaning the machinery was considered good. In the center of each vat is an upright shaft. To this are attached two sets of large paddles, the edges of which are sharp as knives. These are driven around at high speed, and the boiling malt is thoroughly mixed.

Sapiro had been cleaning and sharpening the huge blades and told McKay, his assistant, to go to the next room and raise the lever that allows the malt to flow in. He wished to see if it was in working order. He remained in the vat and a moment later was horrified to see the great blades move.

Sapiro also began to move, for he rightly concluded that McKay had raised the wrong lever and that he would have to keep moving until the mistake could be rectified. But fright had incapacitated McKay, who heard the cries of Sapiro and was seen at the side of the vat. What he there saw transfixed him and robbed him of all presence of mind.

Sapiro, now racing about the little circle, might as well have been alone. He knew just how fast he had to go, for while one set of knives was pursuing him, the other, moving at the same speed, was making pace for him. The pace finally reached its limit, and as Sapiro ran, fearful of slipping on the smooth copper bottom, he began to realize that it could not last long.

Already his limbs began to fail him, and his breath came hard and fast. But Sapiro was determined to die gamely, and thus his life was saved. A workman in a distant part of the building heard his cries. He took in the situation at a glance and signaled to the engineer. The knives a minute later began to slow up, and so did Sapiro. He watched the knives with a look of terror. It became more difficult for him to keep his distance from the awful pacers, even though the latter were going more slowly. Sapiro fell exhausted as they stopped. He was lifted out and taken home, suffering only from the effects of his race and the strain upon his nerves.

Married in Spite of Flood

Weddings by telephone, telegraphy and even phonograph have been performed in this country, chiefly in the wild and woolly west, and their occurrence has always startled the reading public. Now comes from the same land a story of another wedding at long range, but this time by viva voce. Albert Perry is a cowboy, and Emma Moyer is the daughter of a ranchman near Perry, O.T. They had arranged to be married. A heavy storm had swollen the streams and made it impossible for the minister to reach the ranch to perform the ceremony. But a little thing like that could not daunt the young lovers. They drove to the bank of the stream that barred the progress of the minister, and he shouted his questions, and they shrieked their responses across the boiling waters. The fee must remain until the waters subside, but Albert and Emma are man and wife all right.

Football Player as Soldier

"Johnny" Poe, or John Poe, Jr., a member of the famous family of football players and himself a Princeton quarterback in his day, has enlisted with the Sixteenth United States infantry and has sailed from San Francisco for Manila. Poe served as sergeant of the Fifth Maryland regiment during the war with Spain.

Where Walls Are Thin

The man who asserted that "one-half the world doesn't know how the other half lives" lacked experience - he never lived in a flat. - St. Louis Star.

Fancy lying fatigued and restless, possessed of your full mental faculties, but afraid to close your wearied eyes, and this on a wild, barren and open prairie, with the tranquillity of the melancholy desert only broken by the weird, uncanny sizzling and rattling of an untold number of venomous rattlesnakes of the most virulent species surrounding you on all sides.

Ed James, a well known popular mining and cattle man of Engle, N.M., underwent the thrilling ordeal one night not long ago and yet lives to tell of his terrifying experience. It may be desirable to state, says the San Francisco Examiner, that Mr. James is known for his truthfulness.

When the mining man left Chloride, a thriving mineral center, some 50 miles across the plains from Engle, he was in excellent spirits and little thought the night would bring him the most dreadful tortures of his life's experience. The miner had been isolated for the past 18 years in Chloride, where he controls valuable mining properties and cattle enterprises.

The railroad does not penetrate into the camp. As a consequence while going on his recent trip to this point Mr. James was obliged to travel overland on horseback, and, knowing it would be impossible to reach his destination before dark, he supplied himself with a "cowboy shakedown", which consisted of a pair of blankets and a canvas sheet. These were the means of saving him from a most horrible and lingering death.

As darkness overtook the horseman he spread his blankets on what appeared to be a convenient and suitable space of desert ground within an inclosure of rocks of small elevation. He then allowed his animal to graze in close proximity and, being fatigued from his long journey, turned in and was soon lost in deep repose. In a short space of time, however, he was awakened by the peculiar stamping and neighing of his horse. He arose and proceeded to where the creature stood, when he was greeted by the soul stirring rattling and the presence of an unkown number of squirming, hissing, writhing rattlesnakes encircling his path and environment.

A full moon revealed the reptiles in great numbers, and the perilous position and surroundings of the startled man can be easily imagined.

Being possessed of the instincts of the frontiersman from long living on the plains, the awe stricken miner well knew to disturb the treacherous vipers would aggravate them into a frenzy and a tendency to strike, which was equivalent to instant death. So he awaited a favorable opportunity, then cooly lay down, covered his entire body and head with the blankets and remained in that awful position until daylight.

The miner actually lay in a den of snakes. By excercising much presence of mind he crawled to a place of safety and from a near distance stoned and killed 12 of his hideous bedfellows. The fortunate traveler reached Engle the following day, careworn and considerably aged and perplexed in mind from his perilous predicament of the night before.

In relating his harrowing adventure Mr. James, however, manifested no outward uneasiness of manner, by mentally the man suffered extreme torture at the thought of his never to be forgotten night's experience on the barren plain.

"At times I found it difficult to breathe," said Mr. James, "and that frightful feeling of crawling reptiles across one's body is indescribable. When I was first attracted by the uneasiness of my horse and as I proceeded to ascertain the cause, it was a dreadful sight that met my gaze. The moon shone sufficiently for me to distinguish the crawling reptiles. Seeing my dangerous position, I stood erect and in an entirely composed state, not twitching a muscle. I must have looked like one planted and petrified."

"I remained in that attitude fully 20 minutes, then, as quickly as I can tell it, doubled myself up securely. This I concluded the wisest move, for if I attempted to run I might go into the very nest of the rattlers, and I knew that if I remained perfectly quiet the creatures would not molest me."

"How I longed for the gray dawn. My brain was ablaze from mental anguish, and the time was desperately tedious. At last the interior of my catacomb dwelling revealed slender rays of approaching day, and carefully securing a knife from my pocket, I jabbed the blade through the canvas about a quarter of an inch and cautiously peered through the opening".