The Tamagawa River, which divides the two prefectures of which Tokyo and
Yokohama are the principal cities, formed also the dividing line between the two
distinct phases of the disaster. Behind us, Tokyo suffered shocks of far less
severity than those which devastated Yokohama, the principal damage being
wrought by the fires which, immediately following it, swept devouringly through
the capital. Yokohama, on the other hand, was smashed, utterly ruined by the
shock. The flames merely reduced ruins to ashes, brought death to those who had
been wounded or lay pinned under debris. Throughout the entire stricken area
strange pranks of the quake had left some localities relatively unpunished,
while others, scattered among the former, were flattened and shattered. It
seemed as if the movement must be wave-like, smiting with greatest force the
points touched by the crests of its billows.
The massive buttresses supporting the railroad bridge across the Tamagawa had
been twisted, rocked out of place, and the tracks hung fantastically suspended
between them. Oddly, a slight foot-bridge, formed by two widths of boards, was
almost intact. We hurried across, the one thought in control being: what if
another shock should catch us while on this bridge?
We had to jump from the bridge to the embankment. It had sunk, split, and
shattered, one set of twisted tracks being more than six feet above the other.
