Together they made their way forward,
and by the light of the lamp they saw what had happened. The engine had
taken a drift edge-way, had canted up, and then rolled over against the
walls of the cutting. Luckily, the carriages had kept the rails. The
driver was up to his neck in the snow, but the fireman was not visible.
Acton availed himself of the overturned engine, which was making
unearthly noises, and reached out a hand for the driver. The latter
clutched it, and scrambled out.
"Where's your mate?"
"Tom jumped the other way, sir."
Acton swung the lamp round, sending its broad sheet of light into the
driving snow. For a moment he could see nothing but the dazzling white
floor, but next instant perceived the fireman, whose head rested against
the horizontal wheel of the overturned engine.
"This man is hurt," he said, when he saw a crimson stain on the snow.
"Take the lamp, guard."
Acton clambered over the short tender, seized the man by the shoulder,
and, with an immense effort of strength, pulled him partly up. The man
gave no signs of life.
"Bear a hand, driver, will you? He's too much for me alone."
The driver hastily scrambled beside Acton, and in a minute or so they
had the insensible man between them.
"He hurt himself as he jumped," said Acton, looking with concern at a
gaping cut over the man's eye. "Anyhow, our first business is to bring
him round."
It was a weary business lifting the unconscious fireman into an empty
compartment, and still more weary work to bring him round, but at last
this was done.
Pages:
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216