at the mother appeared to be safe. They carried her later to the
children's building in the park and did their best to make her
comfortable.

All night wagons mounted with barrels and guarded by soldiers drove
through the park doling out water. There was always a crush about
these wagons and but one drink was allowed to a person.

Separate supplies were sent to the sick in the tents. The troops
allowed no camp fires, fearing that the trees of the park might catch
and drive the people out of this refuge to the open and windswept
sands by the ocean.

The wind which had saved the heights came cold across the park,
driving a damp fog, and for those who had no blankets it was a
terrible night, for many of them were exhausted and must sleep, even
in the cold. They threw themselves down in the wet grass and fell
asleep.

When the morning came the people even prepared to make the camp
permanent. An ingenious man hung up before his little blanket shelter
a sign on a stick giving his name and address before the fire wiped
him out. This became a fashion, and it was taken to mean that the
space was preempted.

Toward midnight a black, staggering body of men began to weave through
the entrance. They were volunteer fire fighters, looking for a place
to throw themselves down and sleep. These men dropped out all along
the line and were rolled out of the driveways by the troops.

There was much splendid unselfishness there. Women gave up their
blankets and sat up or walked about all night to cover exhausted men
who had fought fire until there was no more fight in them.

CHAPTER IV.

TWENTY SQUARE MILES OF WRECK AND RUIN.

=Fierce Battle to Save the Famous Ferry Station, the
Chief Inlet to and Egress from San Francisco--Fire Tugs
and Vessels in the Bay Aid in Heroic Fight--Fort Mason,
General Funston's Temporary Headquarters, has Narrow
Escape--A Survey of the Scene of Desolation.=

When darkness fell over the desolate city at the end of the fourth day
of terror, the heroic men who had borne the burden of the fight with
the flames breathed their first sigh of relief, for what remained of
the proud metropolis of the Pacific coast was safe.

This was but a semi-circular fringe, however, for San Francisco was a
city desolate with twenty square miles of its best area in ashes. In
that blackened territory lay the ruins of sixty thousand buildings,
once worth many millions of dollars and containing ma