[Illustration: THE CITY HALL, GALVESTON—SHOWING DAMAGE DONE BY THE STORM] M. F. Smith, of the Chicago, Milwaukee and St. Paul Railroad was in Galveston during the hurricane and got home to Dallas yesterday. He said that nothing he could say would convey an adequate idea of the storm. “I was in the Tremont Hotel Saturday when the hurricane began,” he continued. “The water came up into the rotunda and the wind blew with fearful force. Eight hundred or a thousand people took refuge in the hotel. It was a scene of pathos to see the women and children with hardly any clothing, not knowing where relatives or children were scattered about the corridors in deepest distress. It was remarkable that so few of them gave any outward sign or cry. Sunday morning the water was gone out of the rotunda and it was ankle deep in mud. I went out Tremont street to Avenue N ½, where I came to water. People were coming in toward the higher ground sick, wounded and homeless. One hundred men were sworn in by the Mayor Sunday morning as a guard and relief work began at once. I came out Monday morning on the Charlotte M. Allen. From her I saw a barge loaded with corpses going to sea for burial and an other at the dock was being loaded. A passenger on the Allen counted fifty floating bodies in the bay on the way up to Virginia Point. We had to walk to Texas City Junction and I saw Galveston paving blocks on the prairie north of Texas City.” CAST UP BY THE HEAVY WAVES. Officers Williams and Curly Smith stated that the body of a woman that had been buried at sea on the east end was washed ashore on the beach near the foot of Tremont street. Attached to the body was a large rock weighing about 200 pounds. The body was carried to a place back from the water’s edge and placed in a grave. While working with a gang of men clearing the wreckage of a large number of houses on Avenue O and Centre street to-day Mr. John Vincent found a live prairie dog locked in a drawer of a bureau. It was impossible to identify the house or the name of its former occupants, as several houses were piled together in a mass of brick and timber. The bureau was pulled out of the wreckage a few feet from the ground, where it had been buried beneath about ten feet of debris. The little animal seemed not to be worse for his experience of four days locked up in a drawer beneath a mountain of wreckage. It was taken home and fed by Mr. Vincent, who will hold the pet for its owner if the owner survived the storm. Some idea of the extent of the destructive path of the hurricane can be got from a view of the beach front east of Tremont street. Standing on the high ridge of debris that marks the line of devastation extending from the extreme west end to Tremont street an unobstructed view of the awful wreckage is presented.