It was the twenty-seventh sun since our departure from the Cabins: the
_lune de fer_ (month of July) had commenced its course, and all signs
indicated the approach of a violent storm. Toward the hour when the
Indian matrons hang up the plowshares on the branches of the junipers,
and when the paroquets retire into the hollows of the cypress trees, the
sky grew overcast. The vague sounds of solitude gradually ceased, the
forests were wrapped in universal calm. Suddenly the pealing of distant
thunder, re-echoing through these vast woods as old as the world itself,
startled the ear with a diapason of noises sublime. Fearing to be
overwhelmed in the flood, we hastily disembarked on the river's bank and
sought safety in the seclusion of one of the forest glades.
The ground was swampy. We pressed forward with difficulty beneath a roof
of smilax, among grape-vines and climbing plants of all kinds, in which
our feet were continually entangled. The spongy soil trembled all around
us, and every instant we were on the verge of being engulfed in the
quagmires. Swarms of insects and enormous bats nearly blinded us;
rattlesnakes were heard on all sides; and the wolves, bears, panthers,
and badgers which had sought a refuge in this retreat filled the air
with their roarings.
Meanwhile the obscurity increased; the lowering clouds entered beneath
the shadows of the trees. The heavens were rent, and the lightning
traced a flashing zigzag of fire. A furious gale from the west piled up
the angry clouds in heavy masses; the mighty trees bowed their heads to
the blast. Again and again the sky was rent, and through the yawning
crevices one beheld new heavens and vales of fire. What an awful, what a
magnificent spectacle! The trees were struck by lightning and ignited;
the conflagration spread like a flaming garland; the showers of sparks
and the columns of smoke ascended to the very heavens, which vomited
their thunders into the sea of fire.
Then the Great Spirit enveloped the mountains in utter darkness; from
the midst of this vast chaos came a confused roaring made by the tumult
of many winds, the moaning of the trees, the howlings of ferocious
beasts, the crackling of the flames, and the descent of balls of fire
which hissed as they were extinguished in the water.
The Great Spirit knows the truth of what I now say! At this moment I saw
only Atala, I had no thought but for her. Beneath the bent trunk of a
birch-tree, I succeeded in protecting her from the torrents of rain.
Seated myself under the tree, supporting my well-beloved on my knees,
and chafing her bare feet between my hands, I was even happier than the
young wife who feels for the first time the consciousness of her
motherhood.