At Galveston on that fatal Saturday night there were deaths far more horrible than any of which even a Sienkiewicz could conceive. Mothers and babes, fathers and husbands, were hurled headlong into the world beyond without a chance to make peace with their Maker, with a farewell kiss or a last fond embrace. Upon every hand the dead were piled up like driftwood cast up by the sea, even as they were at Waterloo and Gettysburg and behind Kitchener in the Soudan. The bodies of men that the day before were perfect specimens of physical development were swollen and discolored by the fierce rays of the autumn sun, and were food for flies and maggots which buzzed or crawled hither and thither unceasingly. In the bay the sharks were overfed, and on the prairies the buzzards could no longer be tempted. If those who live far from the awful scene of woe, believe that this is over-drawn, let them ask the pale-faced nerve-racked refugees, from that terrible place, and they will be told that it is impossible for either pen or brush to give the picture as it is. The photographer, with all his art, stands baffled. The artist, with all his talent, is incompetent. The newspaper man, accustomed to the dark side of life, shudders and turns from description to the work of reciting details, horrible enough in themselves, but far more pleasant. There arrived in Dallas a score or more of men who told of decomposed bodies, and maggots and flies and starvation and distress until their hearers rushed away in horror. Some of these heart-breaking tales are given herewith. Ed. A. Gebhard of The Dallas News came in from Texas City. He said: “Among the many stories of the Galveston disaster I have seen none that fully describe the sight that presented itself around Texas City and Virginia Point on Monday. They all seem to lose the impressiveness that the narrator gave them when the centre of an excited group who were eager to know if friends or relatives were among the dead. Every word is heard or read ravenously all over the country, and when one has seen the ghastly faces of friends and acquaintances strewn ruthlessly among the grass and rubbish around Texas City and along that part of the bay shore he will not wonder that the world stands aghast. “The corpses that had been thrown up by the cruel waters on the mainland were for the time being neglected for the field that contained thousands instead of hundreds. The remains of the old man of many winters, with the determined looking face, who gazed with intentness into the now cloudless skies, was kept silent company by a little miss whose smile would melt the heart of the most cruel man alive. Further on were the forms of women and children, most of which were entirely nude, the wind having been that severe that even the shoes were torn from their feet. THROWN TOGETHER IN UTTER CONFUSION.