large collection from a period not represented in the museum, the John 

 Day. All this would seem to be ground for unmixed satisfaction, but 

 the fate of that beautiful collection was a tragic one. For several reasons, 

 chief of which was the death of Dr. Hill in 1890, the cleaning of those 

 John Day fossils was long delayed. A few of the finest specimens were 

 prepared and mounted for exhibition, but the great bulk of the collec- 

 tion remained in the rough, in open boxes, which were stored in the 

 cellar of Nassau Hall. When the new steam mains were put through 

 that building, the fitters rifled the boxes, carrying off what struck their 

 fancy and wantonly destroying the rest. The loss was irreparable, for 

 it would not be possible to duplicate the collection in our time. The gems 

 that were saved are enough to repay the cost and labour of getting them, 

 but it is maddening to think of what was lost through the brutality of 

 ignorance after all our trouble in gathering it. 



As was the usual mode of procedure, I went out ahead of the party, 

 to get the horses and equipment needed in a two months' trip. For some 

 time it was doubtful whether we should be able to travel by the Penn- 

 sylvania Railroad. Shortly before, the valley of the Conemaugh River, 

 through which that railroad runs, had been devastated by the bursting 

 of a dam. This sent a flood of frightful destructiveness down the narrow 

 valley, completely destroying the railroad. I don't remember how long 

 it took to rebuild the line, but I got through very soon after the trafiic 

 was restored. I wrote of it: "Of course, a great deal of the wreck has 

 already been cleared away and damage repaired, but what remains is 

 simply appalling; houses shattered, the railroad torn up in all directions, 

 the rails twisted and broken like wire, locomotives, in all stages of 

 destruction, swept for miles, the whole valley strewn with cars, broken 

 houses and mountains of debris of all sorts. The flooded part of Johns- 

 town simply does not exist, having been swept as bare as the palm of 

 your hand. It is an unspeakably dreadful sight, even at this late day." 



This was the great Johnstown Flood, one of the worst disasters in the 

 pre-War period of American history. Several thousand people (5,000, 

 I think it was) lost their lives and there was an incredible amount of 

 property destroyed. 



I made a brief stop at Omaha, in order to attend to some matters of 

 business, and was immensely impressed with the growth and improve- 

 ment of the city that had taken place in the twelve years since I had 

 first seen it. When I remembered what the place was like in 1877, the 

 rows of shanties standing along bottomless mud-sloughs (by courtesy, 

 streets), I could hardly believe my eyes. The remainder of the journey, 



C 174 2 



