Evening Republican, Volume 20, Number 247, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 14 October 1916 — CROCODILES FOE, AFTER GERMANS [ARTICLE]

CROCODILES FOE, AFTER GERMANS

Irish Aviator, Shot Down in Africa, Tells of Remarkable Adventures. THREE DAYS IN THE JUNGLE Escapes From a Lion by Climbing a Tree—Three of His Ribs Broken When Machine Is Brought Down. London—Tales of adventure from the jungles of South Africa, where General Smuts is operating against the Germans, are not uncommon, but it is seldom that the wild events encountered by Capt. A. T. O’Brien of the Royal Flying corps, told here, have been equaled. The details of his adventures were contained in a letter from his wife to relatives in England and have just become public. It is probable that O’Brien will be decorated for his services to the British government and in iug an ordeal that would have meant death to the average soldier. He reported to General Smuts last April far down in German Africa below Ivonnoa Iraugi. His work as an aerial scout ahead of the British troops operating against Germans won him fame. Flying over the jungles and tangled brush country during the rainy season is difficult. When an army of vigilant enemies is added, the task becomes more than dangerous. The- Intrepid Irishman finaily engaged on the losing side of an argument with enemy anti-aircraft guns. His Machine Brought Down. He was flying over jungle country when German guns located him. One of his wings collapsed and the machinlT side slipped into the trees, which partially broke the fall, then crashed to the ground. Had it not been for the trees both driver and machine would have been smashed to bits. As it was, three of O’Brien’s ribs were crushed and for several hours he lay in a swamp unconscious.' Slowly he recovered his senses and took an inventory of his injuries. He could walk without difficulty, but when he swung his arms, the broken ribs hurt cruglly. 5 Holding hts arms tight to his sides, he scouted through the neighboring jungles, where he discovered unmistakable signs of the enemy. Later, he heard a column of infantry approaching, and fearing capture he set fire to the aeroplane and dashed off through the underbrush. Hour afjter hour he maintained jl fast pace grith the pain In his side Increasing with every step. When night fell he crawled high into a vine-cov-ered tree. Sound sleep was Impossible, but at intervals between fighting insects aqd making way for jungle creepers he managed to rest and In a rough way bandage up his Injured side. With dawn he started out again, and before noon had forded two rivers and swam a third. Toward nightfall of the second day he came to a river of considerable width, with a swift current and signs of crocodiles. By this time his hunger and thirst were beginning to sap his strength, but without thought of his| condition or the danger he faced, he plunged Into" the brackish water. _

At the first splash a score of huge “crocs” on a pointU>f land down stream made for him. There followed a race between the maneaters and the quarry that nearly ended disastrously for the Irishman. The last few yards were heartbreaking, for as he glanced back over his shoulder he could see the yawning mouths and ridges of jagged teeth straining to reach him. As he scrambled tip the muddy bank he heard a dozen vicious snaps. * Almost exhausted, he trudged through the tangled brush near the river. Gaining a point on some higher ground, he looked back at the scene of his escape. To his horror, he saw the shaggy mane of a lion, which was coming toward him with nose glued to his trail. The nearest place of saf*ty was a tall tree, which he climbed, monkey fashion. The king of the forest nosed about the tree for some time, meal, but eventually he went his way. By this time O’Brien was well-nigh exhausted. His clothes were torn and his flesh lacerated by the brush. The pain of his wounds produced a high fever, and the brackish water which he was forced to drink made him ill. All night long he staggered on, but he remembers little after sundown of the second day. Toward noon of the third day after his disappearance a sentry far out ahead of the British lines saw a movement in the brush and thought an ahlmaThacT strayed near. He raised his gun to fire, when a human hand was raised above a cluster of brush. Amazed, the sentry went forward, and there found O’Brien half crazed with thirst, soaked with mud and covered with blood from scores of slight cuts. His wife, to whom he had been married but a few weeks before he left for South Africa, had left England to join him before he was reported missing. When he recovered from the fever and opened his eyes for his first conscious look at his surroundings his wife was sitting by his side, having arrived in the meantime, and nursed him through the critical Illness.