is so strong that
horses on the streets stop and snort, and some of them are obliged to
give up, drop in their harness and die from suffocation. Many of the
people are obliged to wear wet handkerchiefs over their faces to protect
them from the fumes of sulphur.

"My husband assures me that there is no immediate danger, and when there
is the least particle of danger we will leave the place. There is an
American schooner, the R. F. Morse, in the harbor, and she will remain
here for at least two weeks. If the volcano becomes very bad we shall
embark at once and go out to sea. The papers in this city are asking
if we are going to experience another earthquake similar to that which
struck here some fifty years ago."

THE FATEFUL EIGHTH OF MAY

The writer of this letter and her husband, Consul Prentis, trusted Mont
Pelee too long. They perished, with all the inhabitants of the city, in
a deadly flood of fire and ashes that descended on the devoted place
on the fateful morning of Thursday, May 8th. Only for the few who were
rescued from the ships in the harbor there would be scarcely a living
soul to tell that dread story of ruin and death. The most graphic
accounts are those given by rescued officers of the Roraima, one of the
fleet of the Quebec Steamship Co., trading with the West Indies. This
vessel had left the Island of Dominica for Martinique at midnight of
Wednesday, and reached St. Pierre about 7 o'clock Thursday morning. The
greatest difficulty was experienced in getting into port, the air being
thick with falling ashes and the darkness intense. The ship had to
grope its way to the anchorage. Appalling sounds were issuing from the
mountain behind the town, which was shrouded in darkness. The ashes were
falling thickly on the steamer's deck, where the passengers and others
were gazing at the town, some being engaged in photographing the scene.

The best way in which we can describe a scene of which few lived to tell
the story, is to give the narratives of a number of the survivors.
From their several stories a coherent idea of the terrible scene can
be formed. From the various accounts given of the terrible explosion
by officers of the Roraima, we select as a first example the following
description by Assistant Purser Thompson:

A TALE OF SUDDEN RUIN

"I saw St. Pierre destroyed. It was blotted out by one great flash of
fire. Nearly 40,000 persons were all killed at once. Out of eighteen
vessels lying