72 Report of the Forest Commission. 



No stick of timber a. foot long remained, nothing but ashes, while not so 

 much as a mark of fire was seen upon the house of worship . Considerable 

 tracts of cleared land, surrounded by forests, were burned completely over. 

 Fences, houses and growing crops shared in the general destruction . Yet one 

 field of ripe oats close by the edge of the forest escaped, while next to the 

 oats 50 acres of corn, still somewhat green, were completely destroyed. Great 

 masses of burning debris were carried long distances by the winds which 

 accompanied this fire, and fleeing families in wagons, in more than one case, 

 were obliged to abandon the burning vehicles . One wagon so left was found 

 after the danger was passed quite uninjured with tbe exception of one wheel, 

 which was entirely destroyed. Two or three small settlements in the midst 

 of vast tracts of woods escaped as if by miracle, and more than one town 

 was saved at the last moment by a seeming providential change of wind. 



The loss of human life was not so great near the shore of the lake as 

 elsewhere, for there the people rushed into Huron's friendly waters by scores 

 and hundreds, remaining there until the flames had done their work in that 

 particular locality. The mortality among domestic animals was quite as great 

 as among persons, and many carcasses of horses, cattle, sheep and hogs were 

 found where they had fallen in their flight. 



No more dramatic incident connected with a forest fire has ever been re- 

 ported than that which occurred at Moore's Run, near Coudersport, Pa., in 

 May, 1891. The fires had encompassed the towns of Austin, Costello, Gale- 

 ton and Moore's Run for several days, but the inhabitants had little fear of 

 danger to themselves. Every day farmers and lumbermen sought refuge in 

 these places of supposed safety, and every day were made welcome and cared 

 for. On Saturday, the 9th of the month, however, the fire had approached 

 in snaky lines so near the towns as to make it evident that unless there was 

 some good fighting done the towns themselves must shortly suffer. 



So, from Austin 75 men were sent upon a railroad train of box cars to 

 Moore's Run. There they dug trenches, piled up embankments and lighted 

 back fires, working with the fury of desperation, hoping to stop the destroying 

 progress of the blaze. The night had nearly arrived and they were beginning 

 to relax their efforts a little, both from exhaustion and because they thought 

 their work had been nearly accomplished, when one of their number, who had 

 stopped for a moment, turned pale in the lurid light of the setting sun and 

 flickering flame. He did not need to tell his comrades the cause of his emotion. 

 Their gaze followed his outstretched hand, and they saw, as he had seen, that 

 the fire had flanked them and had crossed the railroad track at a point where 

 it passed between trees and huge "skids "of logs, between them and the 

 villages they had worked to save. 



It was useless for them to continue work at that point; the only thing that 

 could now be done was to save their own lives. The engineer and fireman, 

 who had been working as heroically as the rest, climbed to their perches in the 

 cab, while the others clambered hastily upon the flat cars. With trembling 

 hands the engineer pulled back the lever, his idea being to make a quick dash 

 through the flames that reached hungrily across the track a few hundred 

 yards away. There was no time for discussion upon that point. Each looked 

 into his neighbor's face and read there tacit consent. It could not be seen 



