In all directions through the miles of ruins were to be seen knots of people gathered upon the sites of their former homes. Each group consisted of certain members of the family, three or four workmen with shovels and a soldier. The workmen were digging into the ruins to uncover the bodies of victims of the disaster and to recover any property of value which might be buried there. The soldier was assigned to the duty of guarding and directing the work and preventing curious or dishonest persons from interfering or carrying away property. At the side of each group would be observed one or more rough wooden boxes waiting to receive the bodies for which the workmen were searching. At this time it was officially estimated by the military authorities in control of Messina that twenty thousand bodies had been removed and that forty thousand bodies still remained undiscovered. About two hundred bodies a day were being taken out in the month of March. As the larger houses of the city had suffered the most complete destruction, it followed that the loss of life among the resourceful and well-to-do had been greater than among the poor who lived in the smaller structures. It was estimated roughly by Italian officials that ninety per cent. of the dead in Messina belonged to the resourceful class. _Burying the Dead._ [Illustration: BODIES AWAITING BURIAL IN PUBLIC SQUARE, MESSINA.] Sad and terrible as was the task of disinterring the bodies of the dead and burying them in the cemeteries, it was inevitable that the work carried on day after day should become a commonplace occupation and that the men engaged in it should eventually regard it with something of the same indifference with which any other daily task is regarded. This may be illustrated by an incident which was observed one hot afternoon. Four workmen, carrying upon their shoulders a box containing a body, were hurrying to the burial place in one of the cemeteries. The men were laughing and jesting as they moved rapidly along a rough road. Behind the men followed an old woman in rusty black, struggling painfully to keep up with the box. Under her arm she carried a small cross such as is placed at the head of each grave as the dead are buried. When the burial place was reached the men carelessly placed the box upon the ground and hastened away without a word. No grave was ready to receive the body and the old woman sat down on the ground beside the box, still clinging to the little cross. It would probably be some hours before the over-worked force of grave diggers had prepared a place for this particular body, and the old woman in the meantime sat in the broiling sun beside the rough coffin. She feared that if the body was buried in her absence she would not be able to identify the grave thereafter. So she sat there during the long afternoon, occasionally caressing the rough boards with tender hands.