que, but it was not until we got into St. Lucia, where we saw the
Roddam, that we learned of the terrible disaster at St. Pierre, and then
we knew that our sand was lava dust."

The volcanic ash which fell on the decks of the Horace was ground as
fine as rifle powder, and was much finer than that which covered the
decks of the Etona.

Returning to the stories told by officers of the Roraima, of which a
number have been given, it seems desirable to add here the narrative of
Ellery S. Scott, the mate of the ruined ship, since it gives a vivid and
striking account of his personal experience of the frightful disaster,
with many details of interest not related by others.

MATE SCOTT'S GRAPHIC STORY

"We got to St. Pierre in the Roraima," began Mr. Scott, "at 6.30 o'clock
on Thursday morning. That's the morning the mountain and the town and
the ships were all sent to hell in a minute.

"All hands had had breakfast. I was standing on the fo'c's'l head trying
to make out the marks on the pipes of a ship 'way out and heading for
St. Lucia. I wasn't looking at the mountain at all. But I guess the
captain was, for he was on the bridge, and the last time I heard him
speak was when he shouted, 'Heave up, Mr. Scott; heave up.' I gave the
order to the men, and I think some of them did jump to get the anchor
up, but nobody knows what really happened for the next fifteen minutes.
I turned around toward the captain and then I saw the mountain.

"Did you ever see the tide come into the Bay of Fundy. It doesn't sneak
in a little at a time as it does 'round here. It rolls in in waves.
That's the way the cloud of fire and mud and white-hot stones rolled
down from that volcano over the town and over the ships. It was on us
in almost no time, but I saw it and in the same glance I saw our captain
bracing himself to meet it on the bridge. He was facing the fire cloud
with both hands gripped hard to the bridge rail, his legs apart and his
knees braced back stiff. I've seen him brace himself that same way many
a time in a tough sea with the spray going mast-head high and green
water pouring along the decks.

"I saw the captain, I say, at the same instant I saw that ruin coming
down on us. I don't know why, but that last glimpse of poor Muggah on
his bridge will stay with me just as long as I remember St. Pierre and
that will be long enough.

"In another instant it was all over for him. As I was looking at him he
was all ablaze. He ree