rest and the
cliffs repeated these discordant sounds; one would have supposed a band
of demons was responding to a superior demon's call.

CHAPTER VII.

THE CAVERN.

While the chevalier sought a road to Devil's Cliff by which to traverse
the forest, we will conduct our readers toward the most southern portion
of the coast of Martinique.

The sea rolled with slow majesty at the foot of large rocks near a peak
which formed a natural defense to this part of the island, and which
rose in a perpendicular wall some two hundred feet in height. The
continued beating of the waves rendered this coast so dangerous that a
vessel could not touch at this place without being, inevitably, broken
to pieces.

The site of which we speak had a wild and grand simplicity; a wall of
barren rocks, of a dull red, was outlined on a sky of sapphire blue;
their base was swallowed up in a whirl of snowy foam, hidden by the
incessant shock of enormous mountains of water which broke upon these
reefs in tones of thunder. The sun with all its strength threw a
brilliant, torrid light on this mass of granite; there was not a cloud
in the brazen heavens. On the horizon there appeared through a burning
vapor the high land of the other Antilles.

At some distance from the coast, where the waves broke, the sea was of a
somber blue, and as calm as a mirror. An object scarcely perceptible,
because it offered little surface above the water, approached rapidly
the portion of this island called Cabesterre.

Little by little, a long, light canoe was to be distinguished, whose
stern and bow cut the sea evenly; this vessel, without sails, was
impelled forward by the strength of the waves. On each seat was clearly
seen a man vigorously rowing. Whether or not the coast was as
unapproachable at three leagues as at this place, it was evident that
the canoe was directed toward these rocks.

The object of those who were approaching seemed to be hard to
understand. Presently the canoe was caught in the midst of the surf
beating upon these reefs. Had it not been for the marvelous ability of
its pilot, who avoided these masses of water following the frail bark
and incessantly menacing it, she would very soon have been swallowed up.

At two gunshots from the rocks, the canoe reversed and rested, and took
advantage of an interval in the succession of waves, at a moment of
calm, which occurred periodically after seven or eight waves had broken
into foam.