In the harbor of St. Pierre were collected a dozen or more steamers sent from various ports to give aid to the sufferers who were flocking in from many of the outlying districts. Provisions were to be had in plenty, and also clothing, while a score or more of surgeons and physicians stood ready to care for the sick, the wounded and the dying.
“What an awful scene of desolation!” remarked Sam, as they gazed at the distant ruin of the once prosperous city. “Everything seems to be buried under the fall of lava and mud.”
“Yes, and the lava has turned to stone,” added Mark. “I don’t believe they will ever rebuild this place.”
“It is not likely,” said Professor Strong. “Or, if they do, it will not be for many years. In my opinion the whole north end of Martinique will be abandoned, for there is no telling how soon Mont Pelee will belch forth again.”
It was not long after this that they passed the wreckage of a French sailing vessel which had been burnt near to the north shore of St. Pierre. Another boat was at hand, transferring such of the cargo as remained undamaged.
“I wonder what craft that is?” said Frank. “It looks something like a boat we saw in the harbor of Havana.”
“She is from Havana,” said a Frenchman, who was at hand, working. “The Raven, Captain Sudlip.”
“Captain Sudlip!” came from several of the boys.
“Was his full name Jason Sudlip?” questioned Professor Strong, with equal interest.
“Yes. Then you knew him?”