ture of the conditions by which we were surrounded can
be imagined than the following extract from Mrs. Ward's report:

"Just seven days after the storm we found ourselves stranded at Texas
City, on the mainland opposite Galveston Island, waiting for
transportation across the six-mile stretch of water. Bridges had been
swept away, and new sand-bars thrown up in the bay; floating roofs and
timbers impeded navigation, and the only method of communication between
the mainland and Galveston was one poor little ferry-boat, which had to
feel her now dangerous way very cautiously, by daylight only. She had
also to carry nearly a quarter of her capacity in soldiers to prevent
her being swamped by waiting crowds of people, frantic to learn the
fate of their friends on the island. Each trip to the mainland, the boat
came filled with refugees from the city of doom--the sick, the maimed,
the sorrowing--many with fearful bodily injuries inflicted by the storm,
and others with deeper wounds of grief;--mothers whose babies had been
torn from their arms, children whose parents were missing, fathers whose
entire families were lost--a dazed and tearless throng, such as Dante
might have met in his passage through Inferno. These were dumped by
thousands on the sandy beach at Texas City, and then conveyed by rail to
Houston, to be cared for by the good people of that city, who,
notwithstanding their own grievous losses, were doing noble work for
their stricken neighbors.

"Of Texas City--a flourishing town of four or five thousand
houses--nothing remained but heaps of bricks and splintered wood, sodden
bales of cotton and bits of household furniture, scattered over the
plain; not a standing habitation within miles, nor any shelter for the
crowds above-mentioned, except two or three hospital-tents, hastily set
up for the sick and wounded, but inadequate for their accommodation.
What was our dismay when told that here we must remain at least
twenty-four hours, for the return of the boat! However, we were better
off, even physically, than most of the waiting crowd, though weariness
of the flesh amounted to actual suffering, after more than fifty hours'
travel. As a special courtesy to Miss Barton, the railway company left a
car to shelter her during the night. Luxurious Pullmans did not abound
at Texas City, and this was the shabbiest of day-coaches, equipped with
few 'modern conveniences.' But this was no time to think of personal
comfort,