ame down by turns, accompanied by a high wind which drove the surf in
roaring rage upon the beach. How thankful we were that we had chosen
this spot instead of one directly in reach of the great rollers with
their mist and spray; though we had the roar and boom of the surf in our
ears continually. Sometimes it seemed that the wind had lulled, and then
with increased violence it again screamed above our heads, threatening
us each moment with disaster.

At midnight a supper of hot macaroni, cocoa, bread, butter and cheese,
with canned meat and jam, was heartily eaten by all, including the
visiting friend from Sitka who had assisted. A low box was used for a
table and we all sat upon the mats, eating from tin cups and plates with
the keenest appetites.

The weather was now awful. The storm had increased until it seemed each
moment that the tent would be torn from its fastenings, and we be left
without any protection whatever. The ropes and stakes had frequently to
be looked after and made stronger. The snow had turned to rain, which
beat heavily upon the stout canvas resisting well the water without
leaking.

By one o'clock the wind showed signs of abating, and we were so much in
need of sleep, that, all dressed as we were, we rolled ourselves in our
blankets and dozed on the rugs close to the oil stoves. For an hour I
lay uneasily dreaming, or listening to the royal cannonading of the
heavy surf upon the beach. From my diary I quote the following extract:

"Monday, four in the morning, June eighteenth, 1900.--It is four in the
morning and we are sitting around the oil stoves in the middle of the
tent. We have just had hot cocoa and crackers. The surf still booms, but
it does not rain, and the wind has died down. We are better off than
many people. Tomorrow we will put up the other tent and get more
settled. We are thankful not to be on the sea beach, where so many are
camped. A. wishes herself home again. People around our tent all night
were talking, moving, afraid of the storm, but the big ships are still
here and they would put out to sea if it were necessary for their
safety. They say we have smallpox in town from the steamer 'Ohio,' and
yesterday Mrs. H., who came up on the 'St. Paul,' was reported to be
dying from pneumonia. The nurse, Mrs. Judge R.'s friend, is caring for
her. Judge R. and wife are still in Mrs. M.'s shack near the barracks.
It has been daylight all night. I hope to hear from father soon, and ge