V.
PERHAPS, if there had been a breeze, neither Stéphane 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 recumbent
form of Pelée 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 Pelée 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.
—"Ça c'est la Dominique," said Maximilien,—"Ennou pou
ouivage-à!"
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 passed
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
passed sitting in their canoe.
—"Moin ni anni soif," said Stéphane. 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 flashing 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 pass, 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, Stéphane
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.
