To those acquainted with the wharf front a peculiar thing is presented near the foot of Twenty-first street. The big steel tank of the Waters-Pierce Oil Company, in which was stored during the season cotton seed oil, at the foot of Fifteenth street, was blown to Twenty-first street, a distance of six blocks. It landed on its bottom and rests now in an upright position. It is a large tank and heavy, but the elements got the better of it. This morning the streets are pretty well crowded with business vehicles; a great many large concerns are doing business, and there is a general appearance of activity which will in a great measure relieve the feeling of unrest and stem the tide of people trying to get away from Galveston. The prospect for rail communication is improving, but no day can be set when trains can be run to the island. Large forces are at work on both ends of one of the four bridges across the bay, but as the bridge is two and one-half miles long and the piling in bad shape, it is impossible to say when the work will be completed. It may be in three or four days, or may be longer, although railroad officials hope for the best—that is, the lowest estimates of time. FEAR TO LOOK ON THE SEA. “It matters not how great the number of the dead, there are enough to shock the sympathies of the world, and they are gone forever. But we fear here to look upon the sea, lest some heartless wave shall bring to view the cold, stark form of another whom somebody lived with and loved. “The victims are still growing into larger thousands, and the bereft are still coming in to tell of losses. It is a continued story of anguish and death such as Texas has never known before and prays it shall never know again. EVERY WAVE HAS ITS TRAGEDY. “It is said that every wave of the sea has its tragedy, and it seems to be true here. In Galveston it has ceased to be an anxiety for the dead, but concern for the living. The supreme disaster, with its overwhelming tale of death and destruction, has now abated to lively anxiety for the salvation of the living. “Men are at work clearing the streets of piles of timbers and refuse. Men are beginning to realize that the living must be cared for. It is now the supreme duty. There is much work to be done and it is being done. Women and children are being hurried out of the city just as rapidly as the limited facilities of transportation will permit. The authorities and commissioners are rational, and idleness is no longer permitted. “There is an element with an abundance of vital energy who intend to save the town, and the town is being saved. Burying the dead, feeding the destitute, cleaning the city and repairing wrecks of all character are under fair headway, and will be pushed as rapidly as men can be found to do the work.