The Portland daily press., 1891-01-10

Another!-chandelier splinter; lights
are dashed out; a sweeping cataract
hurls in; the immense hall rises-oscll-
lates-twirls as upon a pivot, crepltates
--crumbles into ruin. Crash again!-
the swirling wreck dissolves into the
wallowing of another monster billow;
and a hundred cottages overturn, spin
in sudden eddies, culver, disjoint, and
melt into the seething.
So the hurricane passed, tearing OF
the heads of the prodigious waves, to
hurl them hundred feet in air, heaping
up the ocean against the land, upturning
the woods. Bays and passes were swollen
to abysses, rivers regorged, the sea
marshes were changed to raging wastes
of water. Before New Orleans the flood
of the mile broad Mississippi rose six
feet above the highest water mark. One
hundred and ten miles away, Donaldson
vile trembled at the towering tide of
the Lafourche. Lakes strove to burst
their boundaries. Far off steamers
tugged wildly at their cables, shivering
like feathered creatures that hear by
night the approaching howl of destroy
ers. Smokestacks were hurled over
board, pilot houses torn away, cabins
blown to fragments.
And over roaring Kaimbuck Pass, over
the agony of Gallon Bay, the billowing
tide rushed unresisted from the gulf,
tearing and swallowing the land in its
course, blowing out deep sea channels
where sleek herds had been grazing but
few hours before, rending islands in
twain, and ever bearing with it, through
the night, enormous vortex of wreck
and vast wan drift of corpses.
But the Star remained. And Capt.
Abraham Smith, with long good rope
about his waist, dashed again and again
into that awful surging to snatch vic.
TINS from death; clutching at passing
hands, heads, garments, in the cataract
sweep of the seas; saving, aiding, cheer
ing, though blinded by spray and bat
tered by drifting wreck, until his
strength failed in the unequal struggle at
last, and his men drew him aboard sense
less, with some beautiful half drowned
girl in his arms. But wellnigh two
score souls had been rescued by him; and
the Star stayed on through it all.
Long years after the weed grown ribs of
her graceful skeleton could still be seen
curving up from the sanddunes of Last
Island, in witness of how well she stayed.
Day breaks through the flying wrack,
over the infinite heaving of the sea, over
low land vast with desolation. 1t is a
spectral dawn, a wan light, like that of a
dying sun.
The wind has waned and veered; the
food sinks slowly back to its abysses,
abandoning its plumbers, scattering its
piteous waits over bar and dune, over
shoal and marsh, among the silences Of
the mango swamps, over the long low
reaches of sand grasses and drowned
weeds, for more than hundred miles.
From the shell reefs of Pointe-au-Fer to
the shadows of Pelto Bay the dead lie
mingled with the high heaped drift; from
their cypress groves the vultures rise to
dispute a share of the feast with the
shrieking frigate birds and squeaking
gulls. And as the tremendous tide with
draws its waters, all the pirates of air
follow the great white cleaning retreat;
storm of billowing wings and scream
ing threats.
And swift in the wake of gull and
frigate bird the wreckers come, the
spoilers of the dead-savage skimmers
of the sea-hurricane riders wont to
spread their canvas pinions in the
face of storms; Sicilian and Corsican
outlaws, Manila men from the marshes,
deserters from many navies, lascars.
marooners, refugees of hundred ma
tionalities - fishers and shrimpers by
name, smugglers by opportunity, wild
channel finders from obscure bayous
and unfamiliar chenieres, all skilled in
the mysteries of these mysterious waters
beyond the comprehension of the oldest
licensed pilot.
Suddenly long, mighty silver thrill
ing fills the ears of all; there is wild
hurrying and scurrying; swiftly, one
after another, the overburdened luggers
spread their wings and flutter away.
Thrice the great cry rings y. rjp gfieG
sea, and over the far flooded shell reefs,
where the huge white dazzling flashes
are-sheet lightning of breakers-and
over the awful, weird wash of corpses
coming in.
1t is the steam call of the relief boat,
Fastening to rescue the living, to gather
in the dead.
The tramandOIIc fro oa1v ic avar.