"Five dollars per week, unfurnished," said she.
I caught my breath. The room was about eight feet square, and as bare as my hand. Not even a shade hung at the window. It was ceiled with boards around and overhead. I asked if she would put up a window shade. She said she would when her husband returned, as she expected him in a few days from Norton Sound.
After talking with the little woman she seemed to wish me to take the room, assuring me that there were only quiet, decent people in the house, and the saloon below was closed each day at midnight. There was a billiard table and piano in the bar-room; but no window shades, shutters nor screens of any sort, she said. Her own room was next this one, and she was always there after nine o'clock in the evening, so I need not feel timid.
Upon reflection, I took the room, and paid the rent. My things could not stand in the street, and I must have a place in which to sleep at night. It was high and dry, and far enough away from the surf, so that I need not fear being washed out. I would not be in my room during the day, and it was only for a few weeks anyway. It suited my needs better than anything I could find elsewhere, and as for furnishings, I could do without.
I went back to my work, and had my baggage and cot sent to the room. I could settle things in a few minutes in the evening before retiring.
The surf still boomed upon the beach, and rain and mist continued all day, but without wind. For hours the waters kept close to our floors, but did not quite reach them. Floating wreckage washed up at our feet, and two lighters, loose from their moorings, lodged beside the warehouse at the mercy of the surf. We were in constant fear that they would shove the warehouse off the piles against our buildings, and that would be, without doubt, the finale.
In the meantime there was "a rush" indoors such as we never before had. Many carried hearts saddened by the loss of friends or property. Some had not slept for days. At the tables, at one time, sat two beggars, and a number of millionaires. Some who had reckoned themselves rich a few days previous were now beggared. The great wreck of the night before was going rapidly to pieces. With a mighty force, the still angry breakers dashed high over the decks of the ship. Masts and rigging went down hourly, and ropes dangled in mid-air, while men unloading coal and lumber worked like beavers at windlass and derrick, which creaked loudly above the noise of the waters.
More and more was the ship dismantled. When the storm cleared, and the sun came out next day, the scene was one of wondrous grandeur. Nothing more magnificent had I ever before beheld. Great masses of water, mountain high, rolled continually landward, their snowy crests surmounted by veils of mist and spray, delicate as the tracery on some frosted window pane. As the sun lifted his head above the horizon, throwing his beams widely over all, each mist-veil was instantly transformed into a thing of surpassing beauty. It could only be compared to strings of diamonds, rubies and pearls. With a fairy's witchery, or a magician's spell, the whole face of the waters was changed. Each wrecked craft along the shore, partially buried in sand, masts gone, keel broken, and anchor dragged, with the surf breaking over all, was transformed under the brilliant sunshine, until no painting could be more artistically beautiful. Under the fascination of it all we forgot the anxiety, the labor, and suspense of the last days and weeks, and every moment of interval between work we spent at our door next the beach, or after the falling of the tide, further out upon the sands.
Many wrecks lay strewn along the beach. Schooners, barges, and tugs lay broken and helpless. Untold quantities of debris, lumber, pieces of buildings, tents, boxes, and barrels, all testified to the sad and tremendous havoc made by this great storm.
In my little room I rested quietly when my day's work was done. The landlady had taken down an old black shawl I had pinned to the window, and hung a green cloth shade of ugly color, and too wide by several inches. It was better than no shade, and I said nothing. For a bed I had my own cot; for a washstand, a box. At the head of my cot stood two small boxes, one above the other, and upon these I placed my clock, matches, pincushion, brush and combs, while below were stowed away other little things. A few nails on the wall held my dresses, but my trunk remained packed. A candle, tin wash basin, and bucket completed my room furnishings, simple and homely enough to satisfy the asceticism of a cloistered nun or monk.