Having completed my work, I started up the railroad track in the direction of the steamboat landing, to return home, when there came the ring of the bell for another discharge of the cannon. As the breech of the gun was pointing in my direction, I recalled the above fatality; but I reasoned with myself that, as a large number of tests had since been made with these guns, and as the defect in the breech mechanism was supposed to have been corrected, the chance of the breech blowing out at this particular discharge and coming my way was infinitely small.
Nevertheless, I thought, it is exactly on such occasions that the unexpected does happen. So I ran for all I was worth up the track and off at one side. Then I heard the report of the gun, and looking around, saw that sure enough the breech block had blown out, and saw it pass through a building in its path. I saw it strike the track over which I had been walking, cut a rail off, saw it strike the old stone fort beyond me, and ricochet high into the air.
There was an immediate shower of stones and débris falling around me, which I dexterously dodged. On examining the small house where I had been charging the Maximite shell I found that the windows were fairly riddled with pieces of smokeless powder, which had been blown from the breech of the gun.
Among the many dynamite plants that hang upon the verdant hills of the American countryside, there is one which stands somewhat apart from the railroad, and the dynamite has to be carted to the station over the highway. At one point the highway passes close to the edge of a precipice of considerable height, at the bottom of whose abrupt, ragged sides nestles a pleasant villa, owned by a wealthy business man.
A friend of mine, who told me the story, had just paid a visit to this factory of explosives, and was walking leisurely along the road. At a distance of perhaps a hundred yards ahead of him there was one of the dynamite wagons, moving two tons of dynamite to the railroad. The driver had recently purchased a couple of fresh horses, which he pronounced "a spanking pair." They were rather restive and shied at everything they saw. But the driver was a brave fellow and a strong one, and he had no fear of being unable to control them.