Ancestors: A Novel

  XI

  Already a number of automobiles had flown by, some filled with peopleanxious to leave town before it might be too late, but most of themcontaining surgeons and their assistants, or relays of firemen, alonepermitted to enter the burning district; or prominent men bound for thecitizens' meeting to be held in the cellar of the old jail in PortsmouthSquare, a site upon which their ancestors had gambled and Jenny Lind hadsung. Gwynne, who was already beginning to chafe at inaction, to feelthe excited blood shake his pulses, was revolving excuses to send hismother and Isabel home, when an automobile came charging down MarketStreet at a terrific rate of speed. From some distance he recognizedHofer sitting beside the chauffeur. Not in the least considering hisact, he stepped in front of the crowd and made a signal. Hofer respondedwith a shout, the automobile slowed slightly, two men stood up andclutched Gwynne, dragging him into the machine. Gwynne's long legs flewbackward as if he were plunging head first over an embankment, and hehad only time to right himself, turn and shout "Go home," before theautomobile had regained its speed and was out of sight.

  Victoria turned to Isabel with wide eyes. "It looked like kidnapping!"she exclaimed.

  "I fancy they merely want him at the citizens' meeting. No doubt theywant every steady clear brain they can muster. I think I had better goout and see what has become of Paula and the children. Will you come?"

  Victoria shook her head. "This is all too interesting," she said. "Imust see more of it, and I am no longer afraid. When I am tired I willgo home. Shall we agree to meet there for luncheon?"

  Isabel nodded and started up Stockton Street alone, intending to takethe first car that led in her sister's direction. Some of the trolleywires were down, but no doubt others were uninjured, and the cable-carshad always seemed to her as fixed as fate. She could no more conceive oftheir system being dislocated for more than an hour at a time than ofthe city burning. So far she was merely interested, and although sorryfor the unfortunate poor, felt that the fates had conspired to do thecity a service in cleaning out so objectionable a quarter. Of themillions invested in that district she did not think, but sighed as shethought of South Park and Rincon Hill. Still, they would have beenobliterated in the course of events and before long; and as for the fireitself it would be stopped by the great walls of masonry on and nearMarket Street. She looked eastward down the deserted streets towards thebay, and although the vista there also was closed with flame and smoke,the fires were far away, and the marines were fighting it.

  She passed many people ascending and descending, some with pressed lips,others arguing with a certain fettered excitement against thepessimistic attitude. After she left the business blocks the sidewalksagain were free of debris, although she could see the ruin within. Thedisreputable section of this street, known as the "Red light district,"was crowded with women, to whose rescue or comfort no man would seem tohave come. Isabel looked at them with an irresistible curiosity, but nosense of repulsion; she even stopped and answered their eager questionsas best she could. She was possessed with the idea that there was butone person in San Francisco that day, no matter what the opticaldelusion. She was not at all dazed, but utterly impersonal.

  Even in the blazing sunshine most of these women were handsome, andyoung. But all assurance was gone; when not strained and haggard fromthe recent and the menacing terror, they looked indescribably forlorn.But they were very quiet. Isabel heard but one excited cry, andsomething of its thrill ran along her own nerves. "My God! The wind isblowing from the southeast and it's blowing strong!"

  Isabel glanced back. It seemed to her that the great suspended waves ofsmoke, red-lined, were rolling with more energy, and they certainly wereinclining west as well as north. She wondered, with some irritation, whythe wind blew from the southeast when the first of the trades should beroaring in from the Pacific. A strong steady west wind and the firewould be blown towards the bay, where it could be extinguished from themarine boats. Every time a gust ruffled her hair she shook her headirritably, wondering that she had ever loved the wind.

  She reached California Street. The cars were not running. Far down wherethey should have started she saw nothing but smoke. Nor was there theusual rumble indicating that the cable was at work, a sound which wasamong the first of her memories. She turned west and climbed the almostperpendicular blocks to the summit of Nob Hill. The beautiful massivepile of white stone, to be known when finished as Fairmont Hotel, andwhich had already done so much to redeem the city from its architecturalmadness, looked as serene and unravaged as if it crowned a hill ofancient Athens; but so, for that matter, did its neighbors, two asfaultless in their way; the others appearing even more outrageous thanusual, inasmuch as they had had their opportunity to disappear andfailed to take advantage of it.

  From the summit of the hill Isabel gave a hasty glance southward, thenwalked rapidly west; the fires seemed to cover far more ground than whenshe had first looked at them from Russian Hill, an hour ago.

  After she had tripped over two large paving-stones that had met in anupward bulge, she took more note of detail. Some of the houses hadprivate cisterns, and their roofs and walls were still quite wet.Pretentious garden walls, and stone pillars supporting facades, hadfallen, while next door an apparently more delicate structure wasintact. It seemed to be a matter of foundation. And everywhere therewere groups of silent people watching the fire. Even when the Red Crossmen and women carried out the injured, Isabel did not hear a groan. Andall were losing their dazed and frightened expressions. The carelessphilosophy of the city was reasserting itself, although in a moredignified phase.

  At Van Ness Avenue, the wide street that runs through the residence partof the city from north to south, Isabel shuddered for the first time,and, as she was ashamed to run across, stood and stared with a new senseof fascination at the inexplicable old earth. The street lay in a narrowvalley, what would have been a mere canyon in the mountains, and the soilwas loose and sandy, although the great houses sat upon most of thebrief level and held it firm. But the stone blocks in low garden wallswere bulging and broken, and the street itself was horribly torn. Hereand there it had sunken, and looked as if a wave had passed over it andleft an impress. A large stone church had fallen, one tower into thestreet and another upon the neighboring house. The stone walls of houseswere cracked; one of the "mansions" had a zigzag crevice from top tobottom.

  And the proudest had brought forth chairs and were sitting in theirgardens or on the pavement. Isabel recognized a girl who had been one ofthe belles of Mrs. Hofer's ball, clad in a bath-gown and a pair ofsocks, and another, noted for her gowns, passed in a wagon, ahandkerchief tied about her head and a half-filled pillow-case on herlap. Isabel knew that both had lived in one of the beautiful privatehotels on the avenue, and she had already heard that it was so badlywrecked that the guests had been thankful to get out alive and had notventured to return for their clothes. The stately building had been runup in a night, its feet set in sand, and the wonder was it was not lyingacross the avenue.

  Many of the refugees had already reached this third and last wide streetof refuge, and although the greater number were still down at thesouthern end, others had pushed on, intending to walk to the Presidio,where they were likely to be fed. They were resting on their cumbrousbelongings, strange groups, unkempt and half dressed. Many of thehouseholders had sent within for food, and one wealthy dame, whose maidhad had time to build her coiffure and groom her properly, sat with adirty frowsy baby on her lap and was coaxing it to take milk from aspoon, its bottle having been overlooked in the flight. The mother wassitting on the bureau her husband had rescued, by no means abashed, noreven surprised.

  Isabel crossed the street and ascended and descended again, traversedseveral blocks to the north, and finally approached the house in whichthe Stones had their apartment. Although high-perched, it was uninjured,and as Isabel climbed the hill she saw Paula and her children seated,with many others, on the long flight of steps. Paula waved her hand andwalked down composedly t
o meet her sister. She was dressed, laced, andpainted. A sufficient time had elapsed since the earthquake to permither ruling passion to regain its throne.

  "Well, I am glad to see you!" She greeted Isabel with something of thegrand air. She felt almost pompous with the sense of playing her part ina great event, fancied herself, perhaps, its central figure. "Of course,I knew you were all right up there, especially as we came off fairlywell. But you should have been here. You've missed it!"

  "I know," said Isabel, humbly. "But I am glad you were not hurt. And notfrightened?"

  "Oh, fearfully. And being up so many flights of stairs made it seem somuch worse. But Lyster and I managed to get out of bed and into thenursery before it was half over, and hold the children in the doorways.I didn't make a fool of myself like so many others, and run out in thestreet before I was dressed; my hair was up on pins. Lys was morefrightened than I was--it's a wonder he has any nerves at all--and nowthat there are so many fires he is fearfully excited at the idea thatall his favorite haunts may go. He has gone down-town to see what ishappening--also," in a happy afterthought, "to try and borrow somemoney. He literally had not ten cents in his pocket. We have some in thebank for a wonder, but everybody says the banks will go, and also thatthere will be hard times."

  Isabel handed over her purse mechanically. "Victoria and Elton haveplenty, I shall not need it," she said. But the desire to save Mrs.Stone's feelings was superfluous. The purse disappeared with a polite"Thanks, dear," and Paula hastily changed the subject, lest the luxuryof a carriage for the return to Russian Hill should appeal to Isabel."Of course you'll go back to the ranch where you can be comfortable,"she remarked.

  "I have no plan. The launch is ready for us, but it will depend upon theothers. Should you care to go to the ranch? I don't suppose you are inany danger from fire, out here, but things may be very uncomfortable fora time."

  "Oh, I'll take the risk," said Paula, easily. "I should be bored todeath up there, and here there are so many people to talk to. I haveheard about fifty experiences this morning, and all fearfullyinteresting. I guess we'll make out. It will only be for a day or twoanyhow, and everybody that has food in the house is offering to sharewith the rest. I never have much on hand, but Mrs. Brooks, who livesunder me, always keeps her store-room filled, and has invited me tolunch. You had better stop, too."

  "I have promised Victoria to return. Just suppose the fire should comeout here, what should you do?"

  "Oh, take a mattress or two out to the Presidio. It's not far, and wouldbe a regular picnic. But it won't."

  "Well, I'll go, then. If you change your mind you can have the launch.Only come to me first. Mr. Clatt is standing over it with asix-shooter."

  "Thanks. Sorry you won't come in. Lys won't sit down for about a week,he's _that_ nervous, so you'll probably see him up on the Hill."

  Isabel started for home, and when she reached Fillmore Street discoveredthat she was tired. It was then that she regretted not having reserved adollar or two; but no doubt Victoria was at home by this time. She founda livery-stable, and asked the proprietor, lounging in the entrance, ifhe could send her to the foot of her bluff.

  "Yes, for fifty dollars," he said, coolly. Fillmore Street was aprosperous slum, another brief level between two steep acclivities. Itwas not yet aware of the proud destiny that awaited it, that for thenext year or more it was to be the teeming centre of the abbreviatedcity's life, but there never was a time when it was burdened withmanners, or the grand point of view. When Isabel stared, the mancontinued: "Yes, ma'am! Fifty's the ticket. And two hours later it maybe five hundred. Some people are getting mighty nervous, and I've letfive hacks and buggies already, at my own figure, to them as wants toget out of town quick."

  Isabel turned her back on him, and climbed and descended again. LowerVan Ness Avenue was even more torn and lumpy than where she had crossedit at California Street, and hundreds of the South of Market Streetrefugees were sitting or lying in the middle of the street, worn out butstolid. Just beyond, she caught up with a teamster, who, noticing thefatigue in her eyes, stopped his horses and offered her a "lift,"provided she was "going his way."

  Isabel gratefully climbed to his high perch, after stating that she hadno money, and being royally silenced.

  "Oh, shucks!" said the man. "I guess this is the time to do other folksa good turn. You'd do the same for me, I'll bet. What do you think ofthis business, anyhow?"

  Isabel replied hopefully, but he shook his head.

  "City's doomed. Far as Van Ness, anyhow. Nothin' ain't goin' to stopthat fire but water, and water's just what they haven't got. Lord! tothink of that bay on three sides of the city. Talk about the AncientMariner. I don't live in the city, but I'll be sorry to see it go. Lord!warn't that a shake? I was flung plumb out of bed and against the wall,and the house next to mine, or the one I war in, went plumb out into themiddle of the street. Lord! what a yellin' there was inside! Nobodyhurt, but one woman went plumb out'r her mind. They've got her tied tothe bed-post now. And what a lootin' of saloons there was until thesoldiers marched in! Now, I hear, that there mayor has issued an order,which is to be pasted up all over, that any man caught lootin' anything,saloons or otherwise, is to be shot dead and no questions asked. Goodjob, that. I guess we're in for high old times, miss. I'm makin' forOakland, where I live. I brought in a load last evenin' and stoppedover. Some of my friends live down by the ferry, and I'll pick them up,if they want to get out. Don't you want to come along? My wife and me'llbe glad to put you up if you can't do any better."

  Isabel thanked him warmly, and assured him that she would be safe in anycase, then discovered a loose half-dollar in the pocket of her jacket.The man accepted it philosophically.

  "You were welcome to the ride, but I'm not the one to say nay to a bitof silver so long as you say you're not hard up yourself. Guess it'llcome in handy. Well, s'long. Good luck to you. I've enjoyed your societyvery much."