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VIII

Experiences of Others

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Some of my experiences may sound a little exciting to men that have led a quiet life at home, but I would not care to mention them in the hearing of some men that I have met. One of my worst experiences was in riding the rods of a train, in the State of Texas, on a road that was notoriously hard to beat. Riding the rods means to stretch one's body under a car, on a narrow board four inches wide, which is fastened to two thin iron rods. Tramps never ride in this way, except when the brakesmen are very bad and would strike them off the bumpers, and there is not one unsealed, empty car on the train. But when a tramp is safely on the rods, and the train is going, it is then impossible to reach him with anything until the train stops. Of course if the rods broke, or anything happened to the board, or the tramp went to sleep, he must then fall and be cut to pieces. All these freight trains have rods, but a great number are without boards; for that reason a tramp often gets his own board and drives a nail into each end. When the train begins to move he throws his board across the rods, and then leaps under the car. His life now depends on the nails keeping in their place, the board not breaking, and keeping awake. But sometimes, unfortunately for the tramp, the brakesmen see a train out; which means that they will stand one on each side of the train, at the head of the engine, and inspect each side of the train as it passes them. If they see a tramp on the top of a car, or on the bumpers, they shout to him to get off, and, when they have themselves boarded the train, they come back over the top to see whether he has obeyed them or not. It would be wise for the tramp to do so, for the train would then be going slow; but if he does not, these brakesmen will force him after, at the point of a revolver, to jump off a train now going fast. But if they see a tramp on the rods, they are in a strange position. It is no use to tell him to get off, because he cannot do so until the train stops; and, as they cannot reach him, he rides in spite of them. They can only do one thing, and that is what I, and many more, have had done, and it is not a pleasant experience. These brakesmen arm themselves with stones, and one of them no sooner sees a tramp under the car than he shouts to his fellow. After doing this the two brakesmen run with the train, throwing stones with all their might, and the tramp can hear their savage yells and the stones strike against the car. As it is, he is in a shaky position, without being helped to fall by receiving a blow on the head with a stone. Fortunately for him, they must soon stop throwing, for the train is going faster and faster, and if they do not board it soon they will be left behind. But they are so used to jumping on moving trains, that they can afford time to throw a number of stones. Another thing in the tramp's favour is that they only have a few stones in the first place, and then have to pick them up. But what favours the tramp most is that these men cannot aim straight, because the train is on the move, and they have to follow the car. This was one of my worst experiences, being stoned while riding the rods. Of course these brakesmen could rush forward and either pull a tramp out or push him off, but they could not do so without getting him caught in the wheels. This would be such plain murder that, in spite of their rage, it frightens them; so they stone him instead, and give him a chance for his life. Half the tramps in America will not ride a train if they cannot get the comfort of an empty car—not even on a road where the brakesmen are good and indifferent as to the number of tramps they carry. Still, there are so many that have had my experience that I would not mention it in the hearing of an old American tramp.

But it must not be supposed that the dangers of beating one's way on freight trains in America are always caused by unsympathetic brakesmen. I know one good road which carried hundreds of tramps every week, and it was never known that a brakesman had ever put one off. In fact the brakesmen on this road used to look with indifference on tramps, as though they were part of the common freight. Some of these brakesmen were so used to tramps that they would confess a fear to run a train that had none, much the same as sailors look for rats on board a ship. But this road was spoilt by a gang of half robbers and half beggars. These men would board a train when it was standing still, and as soon as it was on the move, would go from car to car and search every man that they saw beating his way. This they would do with men riding outside, in coal cars or on flat cars. When the train stopped, they would get off and inspect the train. If they saw an empty car that contained one or two men, this gang—four, five, or six in number—would get in. A tramp would not know but what they were the same as himself, and would not feel any alarm, but welcome their company. But as soon as the train was again on the move, these new arrivals would then begin to question and search the first occupants of the car, and woe betide the man that refused to be searched or was not civil. Out through the open door he would be thrown, and the train would be going thirty or forty miles an hour, and it would be night. As I have said, these men were all beggars, for they would not make enough out of these petty robberies to keep them. For this reason a man had only to say, when questioned as to what he was, "I am a beggar," and they would then treat him with every respect. The men they wanted to find were those that were working men and had money in their pockets, but preferred to ride free on an easy road. The desperate methods of these men were so well known that tramps would often swarm together in one car, knowing that their number would make them safe. For all that, several dead men were found every week on this road, and the cause was well known to tramps. Some of the mutilated men that just escaped with their lives would have mentioned these things to the police, but the latter did not trouble, for it was all tramp work, from beginning to end.

One of the worst experiences I have ever heard of was of a young cattleman whom I knew in Baltimore. When I met him he was only a lad of twenty years, and he had such a calm, pleasant face that no one would think that he ever had an hour's suffering in his life. Two years before this he had been a stowaway from England to America, and he was not discovered for several days. So, being too late to put him on shore, the captain set him to work, with the intention of handing him over to the police on arrival in America. But when they were in sight of land and saw the distant lights, it being night, this lad possessed himself of a life-belt and, without being seen, dropped overboard. He was under the impression that the tide and his own exertions would take him to land before morning and, no one being about, he would be safe. But instead of this, he got caught in a strong outgoing current, and was taken out to sea. He then had the experience of floating two days and two nights in the deep sea, before he was seen and picked up by a passing ship. Whatever his thoughts could have been, it was most certain that his mind was not affected, for when I knew him he was the most cheerful and sweetest tempered in the cattleman's office, and he was never heard to mention his experience.

At this office was another cattleman, who had not only been in the hands of lynchers, but even had the rope round his neck and the other end of it thrown over the limb of a tree. A tramp had assaulted a woman, and a number of men were searching for him. Seeing a man at a camp-fire in the woods they at once pounced on him and, without any question, placed the rope round his neck and prepared to hang him. But, fortunately for him, another body of men came, led by the woman's husband, and with him was a little boy who had witnessed the assault. "That's not the man," said the little fellow—which saved the man's life. This cattleman was one of the ugliest men that I have ever seen, but he was really so harmless, simple, and innocent, that we all liked him and fed him, and got him to sing. We knew that women would be afraid of him, and for this reason he was apt to starve. So we better looking and less deserving tramps saved the poor fellow the humiliation of having doors slammed in his face, and hearing keys turned and bolts drawn.