The Daily Cairo Bulletin

A WONDERFUL RAILROAD.

A Grade of Over 400 Feet to the Mile Overcome Without Cogs.

Much has been written about the construction of the mountain divisions of the Rio Grande; travelers have marveled at the four per cent. grades and the fifteen degree curvature, of the most remarkable narrow gauge railroad, which penetrates the most rugged canons and climbs the most lofty mountain ranges of the Rockies. But nobody has ever well described the wonderful little feeder of the Leadville division which modestly leaves the main line at Brown Canon, and ascends the mountain gulches to the east with the steepest grades and the heaviest curves in the world that are overcome by the ordinary drive wheel locomotive. Afar up in this range of mountains, seven miles away, and nearly 3,000 feet higher than the bed of the canon, is the famous Calumet mine, from which is extracted the hematite ore that keeps in blast the Bessemer works at Pueblo. Every morning of the year a ponderous locomotive and a small train of cars toils up this steep, and every afternoon they make the perilous descent to the valley loaded with iron, with steam brakes on the cars, the water pressure on the locomotive drivers, and a man standing at the brake wheel of each car.

This is the most wonderful piece of railroading in the universe. The maximum grade is 406 feet to the mile, or nearly eight per cent., and the maximum curvature 25 degrees. The terminal of the branch is half a mile higher than the commencement. Imagine, then, the difficulty of ascending with empty cars, and the danger in descending with loaded ones. Still, strange though it may seem, a locomotive cannot make the descent unless at least five cars are attached. The latter are essential to provide the resisting power for the steam brakes. The trip up is snailish, the return is rapid, in spite of the steam pressure which cuts the car wheels into sparks that fly out in a constant stream from the brakes, in spite of the reverse action, in spite of the lavish use of the sand pipe, and in spite of the water brake on the drive wheels of the locomotive.

Some few years ago, when the operation of the line was commercial, runaway accidents were of almost daily occurrence. The seven miles was within a brief period strewn with wrecks of cars, locomotives and iron ore. The most discouraging results attended the persistent efforts to make the line serve the purpose for which it was constructed. "Day after day control over the descending train would be lost; some defect would interfere with the working of the steam brake; and even with the brake in successful operation the train would take a crazy notion and go flying down the mountain sides along the brink of fearful precipices; through the rock-bound gullies and around the acute curves, like a bolt of lightning. The train hands would leap for life, and then the locomotive and cars would be dashed into fragments. In all these accidents, however, nobody was hurt. Thousands and thousands of dollars worth of rolling stock is said to have been destroyed before a successful system was established. Only a very few of the higher officials of the Rio Grande realize how terrible was the experience of these rides, and it is told of two of them who once summoned up sufficient curiosity and courage to make the journey, that they were so frightened that they hung over the steps of the caboose, expecting every moment to have to leap for life.

Finally extremely heavy locomotives were built, and a force of exceptionally brave trainmen were secured. The latter were instructed to cling to their posts at every hazard, and to never flinch in the moment of danger. Not a serious accident has been recorded since. Starting from the mine, every brake is manned so that in case the steam should fail the train could be checked. While there have been several runaways in two years, there has not been a wreck. The sight of one of these trains descending is one of thrilling interest, the sparks from the car wheels cutting a pathway of light down the mountains, which can be best described as having the appearance of a molten stream of fire rolling down the river bed of the canon—Cleveland Leader.