Two Years in the French West Indies Part 26

--"And if she pa.s.s in the night?"

--"They can see us."...

--"No, they will not be able to see us at all. There is no moon."

--"They have lights ahead."

--"I tell thee, they will not see us at all,--piess! piess! piess!"

--"Then they will hear us cry out."

--"NO,--we cannot cry so loud. One can hear nothing but a steam-whistle or a cannon, with the noise of the wind and the water and the machine.... Even on the Fort-de-France packet one cannot hear for the machine. And the machine of the _Orinoco_ is more big than the church of the 'Centre.'"

--"Then we must try to get to La Dominique."

... They could now feel the sweep of the mighty current;--it even seemed to them that they could hear it,--a deep low whispering. At long intervals they saw lights,--the lights of houses in Pointe-Prince, in Fond-Canonville,--in Au Precheur. Under them the depth was unfathomed:--hydrographic charts mark it _sans-fond_. And they pa.s.sed the great cliffs of Aux Abymes, under which lies the Village of the Abysms.

The red glare in the west disappeared suddenly as if blown out;--the rim of the sea vanished into the void of the gloom;--the night narrowed about them, thickening like a black fog. And the invisible, irresistible power of the sea was now bearing them away from the tall coast,--over profundities unknown,--over the _sans-fond_,--out to the horizon.

IV.

... Behind the canoe a long thread of pale light quivered and twisted: bright points from time to time mounted up, glowered like eyes, and vanished again;--glimmerings of faint flame wormed away on either side as they floated on. And the little craft no longer rocked as before;--they felt another and a larger motion,--long slow ascents and descents enduring for minutes at a time;--they were riding the great swells,--_riding the horizon!_

Twice they were capsized. But happily the heaving was a smooth one, and their little canoe could not sink: they groped for it, found it, righted it, and climbed in, and baled out the water with their hands.

From time to time they both cried out together, as loud as they could,--"_Sucou!--sucou!--sucou!_"--hoping that some one might be looking for them.... The alarm had indeed been given; and one of the little steam-packets had been sent out to look for them,--with torch-fires blazing at her bows; but she had taken the wrong direction.

--"Maximilien," said Stephane, while the great heaving seemed to grow vaster,--"_fau nou ka prie Bon-Die_."...

Maximilien answered nothing.

--"_Fau prie Bon-Die_" (We must pray to the Bon-Die), repeated Stephane.

--"_Pa lapeine, li pas pe oue nou at!_" (It is not worth while: He cannot see us now) answered the little black.... In the immense darkness even the loom of the island was no longer visible.

--"O Maximilien!--_Bon-Die ka oue toutt, ka connaitt toutt_" (He sees all; He knows all), cried Stephane.

--"_Y pa pe oue non piess atoueelement, moin ben sur!_" (He cannot see us at all now,--I am quite sure) irreverently responded Maximilien....

--"Thou thinkest the Bon-Die like thyself!--He has not eyes like thou,"

protested Stephane. "_Li pas ka tini coule; li pas ka tini zie_" (He has not color; He has not eyes), continued the boy, repeating the text of his catechism,--the curious creole catechism of old Pere Goux, of Carbet. [Quaint priest and quaint catechism have both pa.s.sed away.]

--"_Moin pa save si li pa ka tini coule_" (I know not if He has not color), answered Maximilien. "But what I well know is that if He has not eyes, He cannot see.... _Fouinq!_--how idiot!"

--"Why, it is in the Catechism," cried Stephane.... "_'Bon-Die, li conm vent: vent tout-patout, et nou pa save oue li;-li ka touche nou,--li ka boulvese lanme.'_" (The Good-G.o.d is like the Wind: the Wind is everywhere, and we cannot see It;--It touches us,--It tosses the sea.)

--"If the Bon-Die is the Wind," responded Maximilien, "then pray thou the Wind to stay quiet."

--"The Bon-Die is not the Wind," cried Stephane: "He is like the Wind, but He is not the Wind."...

--"_Ah! soc-soc--fouinq!_... More better past praying to care we be not upset again and eaten by sharks."

... Whether the little chabin prayed either to the Wind or to the Bon-Die, I do not know. But the Wind remained very quiet all that night,--seemed to hold its breath for fear of ruffling the sea. And in the Mouillage of St. Pierre furious American captains swore at the Wind because it would not fill their sails.

V.

Perhaps, if there had been a breeze, neither Stephane nor Maximilien would have seen the sun again. But they saw him rise.

Light pearled in the east, over the edge of the ocean, ran around the rim of the sky and yellowed: then the sun's brow appeared;--a current of gold gushed rippling across the sea before him;--and all the heaven at once caught blue fire from horizon to zenith. Violet from flood to cloud the vast rec.u.mbent form of Pelee loomed far behind,--with long reaches of mountaining: pale grays o'ertopping misty blues. And in the north another lofty shape was towering,--strangely jagged and peaked and beautiful,--the silhouette of Dominica: a sapphire Sea!... No wandering clouds:--over far Pelee only a shadowy piling of nimbi.... Under them the sea swayed dark as purple ink--a token of tremendous depth.... Still a dead calm, and no sail in sight.

--"_ca c'est la Dominique_," said Maximilien,--"_Ennou pou ouivage-a!_"

They had lost their little palettes during the night;--they used their naked hands, and moved swiftly. But Dominica was many and many a mile away. Which was the nearer island, it was yet difficult to say;--in the morning sea-haze, both were vapory,--difference of color was largely due to position....

_Sough!--sough!--sough!_--A bird with a white breast pa.s.sed overhead; and they stopped paddling to look at it,-a gull. Sign of fair weather!--it was making for Dominica.

--"_Moin ni ben faim_," murmured Maximilien. Neither had eaten since the morning of the previous day,--most of which they had pa.s.sed sitting in their canoe.

--"_Moin ni anni soif_," said Stephane. And besides his thirst he complained of a burning pain in his head, always growing worse. He still coughed, and spat out pink threads after each burst of coughing.

The heightening sun flamed whiter and whiter: the flas.h.i.+ng of waters before his face began to dazzle like a play of lightning.... Now the islands began to show sharper lines, stronger colors; and Dominica was evidently the nearer;--for bright streaks of green were breaking at various angles through its vapor-colored silhouette, and Martinique still remained all blue.

... Hotter and hotter the sun burned; more and more blinding became his reverberation. Maximilien's black skin suffered least; but both lads, accustomed as they were to remaining naked in the sun, found the heat difficult to bear. They would gladly have plunged into the deep water to cool themselves, but for fear of sharks;--all they could do was to moisten their heads, and rinse their mouths with sea-water.

Each from his end of the canoe continually watched the horizon. Neither hoped for a sail, there was no wind; but they looked for the coming of steamers,--the _Orinoco_ might pa.s.s, or the English packet, or some one of the small Martinique steamboats might be sent out to find them.

Yet hours went by; and there still appeared no smoke in the ring of the sky,--never a sign in all the round of the sea, broken only by the two huge silhouettes.... But Dominica was certainly nearing;--the green lights were spreading through the luminous blue of her hills.

... Their long immobility in the squatting posture began to tell upon the endurance of both boys,--producing dull throbbing aches in thighs, hips, and loins.... Then, about mid-day, Stephane declared he could not paddle any more;--it seemed to him as if his head must soon burst open with the pain which filled it: even the sound of his own voice hurt him,--he did not want to talk.

VI.

... And another oppression came upon them,--in spite of all the pains, and the blinding dazzle of waters, and the biting of the sun: the oppression of drowsiness. They began to doze at intervals,--keeping their canoe balanced in some automatic way,--as cavalry soldiers, overweary, ride asleep in the saddle.

But at last, Stephane, awaking suddenly with a paroxysm of coughing, so swayed himself to one side as to overturn the canoe; and both found themselves in the sea. Maximilien righted the craft, and got in again; but the little chabin twice fell back in trying to raise himself upon his arms. He had become almost helplessly feeble. Maximilien, attempting to aid him, again overturned the unsteady little boat; and this time it required all his skill and his utmost strength to get Stephane out of the water. Evidently Stephane could be of no more a.s.sistance;--the boy was so weak he could not even sit up straight.

--"_Ae! ou ke jete nou enc_," panted Maximilien,--"_mette ou toutt longue_."