f the boat. At each gust of wind they incline like idle birds,
lifting their long wings and showing their black bellies. They run
slantwise, then come back; one would say that they felt the better for
being in this great fresh-water harbor; they loiter in it and enjoy
its peace after leaving the wrath and inclemency of the ocean.

The banks, fringed with pale verdure, glide right and left, far
away to the verge of heaven; the river is broad like a sea; at this
distance you might think you had seen two hedges; the trees dimly lift
their delicate shapes in a robe of bluish gauze; here and there great
pines raise their umbrellas on the vapory horizon, where all is
confused and vanishing; there is an inexpressible sweetness in these
first hues of the timid day, softened still by the fog which exhales
from the deep river.

As for the river itself, its waters stretch out joyous and splendid;
the rising sun pours upon its breast a long streamlet of gold; the
breeze covers it with scales; its eddies stretch themselves, and
tremble like an awaking serpent, and, when the billow heaves them, you
seem to see the striped flanks, the tawny cuirass of a leviathan.

Indeed, at such moments it seems that the water must live and feel; it
has a strange look, when it comes, transparent and somber, to stretch
itself upon a beach of pebbles; it turns about them as if uneasy and
irritated; it beats them with its wavelets; it covers them, then
retires, then comes back again with a sort of languid writhing and
mysterious lovingness; its snaky eddies, its little crests suddenly
beaten down or broken, its wave, sloping, shining, then all at once
blackened, resembles the flashes of passion in an impatient mother,
who hovers incessantly and anxiously about her children, and covers
them, not knowing what she wants and what fears.

Presently a cloud has covered the heavens, and the wind has risen.
In a moment the river has assumed the aspect of a crafty and savage
animal. It hollowed itself, and showed its livid belly; it came
against the keel with convulsive starts, hugged it, and dashed against
it, as if to try its force; as far as one could see, its waves lifted
themselves and crowded together, like the muscles upon a chest; over
the flank of the waves passed flashes with sinister smiles; the mast
groaned, and the trees bent shivering, like a nerveless crowd before
the wrath of a fearful beast. Then all was hushed; the sun had burst
forth, the