302 EAST PRUSSIA TO THE GOLDEN GATE 



narrowly passed, whilst I was watching the escape along- 

 side the man at the helm. Cape Bonita is a large, pointed 

 rock around which the wild breakers play their danger- 

 ous game among the reefs which the falling debris of 

 centuries have wrought. We had passed the danger, I 

 thought, and I went below to light a cigar, when I was 

 nearly prostrated by a. terrific noise, resembling a cannon- 

 shot, which brought me instantly on deck again. What 

 I beheld can only be realized by one who has gone 

 through similar experiences. Our vessel was a wreck 

 — a mass of splinters from the broken masts and yards, 

 fragments of sails strewn about the deck or floating al- 

 ready in mid-ocean— this was the sight which met my eye. 

 I stood as if paralyzed! Had this occurred five minutes 

 sooner, we would have met our death unconditionally, 

 but as we had already approached the Golden Gate, our 

 perilous condition had been signaled to San Francisco by 

 some one from shore before we had quite recovered from 

 the shock. While we were awaiting help from San Fran- 

 cisco a clipper entered the Gate and at once offered as- 

 sistance which was gladly accepted. Thus ends the 

 journey on the "Francisca," Capt. Miller, whose heroic 

 deeds I shall not soon forget. 



June 10th, 1854. 

 I have been working with Raabe ever since my return 

 to San Francisco and have averaged about sixty-five dol- 

 lars a month. I have heard from home and have just an- 

 swered Marie's wedding announcement. May she be 

 happy, for she deserves it. 





