Part 2 In The Breton Land Chapter 1

THE PLAYTHING OF THE STORMThe Northern sun had taken another aspect and changed its colour,opening the new day by a sinister morn. Completely free from its veil,it gave forth its grand rays, crossing the sky in fitful flashes,foretelling nasty weather. During the past few days it had been toofine to last. The winds blew upon that swarm of boats, as if to clearthe sea of them; and they began to disperse and flee, like an army putto rout, before the warning written in the air, beyond possibility tomisread. Harder and harder it blew, making men and ships quake alike.

　　And the still tiny waves began to run one after another and to melttogether; at first they were frosted over with white foam spread outin patches; and then, with a whizzing sound, arose smoke as thoughthey burned and scorched, and the whistling grew louder every moment.

　　Fish-catching was no longer thought of; it was their work on deck. Thefishing lines had been drawn in, and all hurried to make sail and someto seek for shelter in the fjords, while yet others preferred to roundthe southern point of Iceland, finding it safer to stand for the opensea, with the free space about them, and run before the stern wind.

　　They could still see each other a while: here and there, above thetrough of the sea, sails wagged as poor wearied birds fleeing; themasts tipped, but ever and anon righted, like the weighted pithfigures that similarly resume an erect attitude when released afterbeing blown down.

　　The illimitable cloudy roof, erstwhile compacted towards the westernhorizon, in an island form, began to break up on high and send itsfragments over the surface. It seemed indestructible, for vainly didthe winds stretch it, pull and toss it asunder, continually tearingaway dark strips, which they waved over the pale yellow sky, graduallybecoming intensely and icily livid. Ever more strongly grew the windthat threw all things in turmoil.

　　The cruiser had departed for shelter at Iceland; some fishers aloneremained upon the seething sea, which now took an ill-boding look anda dreadful colour. All hastily made preparations for bad weather.

　　Between one and another the distance grew greater, till some were lostsight of.

　　The waves, curling up in scrolls, continued to run after each other,to reassemble and climb on one another, and between them the hollowsdeepened.

　　In a few hours, everything was belaboured and overthrown in theseregions that had been so calm the day before, and instead of the pastsilence, the uproar was deafening. The present agitation was adissolving view, unconscientious and useless, and quicklyaccomplished. What was the object of it all? What a mystery of blinddestruction it was!

　　The clouds continued to stream out on high, out of the westcontinually, racing and darkening all. A few yellow clefts remained,through which the sun shot its rays in volleys. And the now greenishwater was striped more thickly with snowy froth.

　　By midday the /Marie/ was made completely snug for dirty weather: herhatches battened down, and her sails storm-reefed; she bounded lightlyand elastic; for all the horrid confusion, she seemed to be playinglike the porpoises, also amused in storms. With her foresail taken in,she simply scudded before the wind.

　　It had become quite dark overhead, where stretched the heavilycrushing vault. Studded with shapeless gloomy spots, it appeared a setdome, unless a steadier gaze ascertained that everything was in thefull rush of motion; endless gray veils were drawn along, unceasinglyfollowed by others, from the profundities of the sky-line--draperiesof darkness, pulled from a never-ending roll.

　　The /Marie/ fled faster and faster before the wind; and time fled also--before some invisible and mysterious power. The gale, the sea, the/Marie/, and the clouds were all lashed into one great madness ofhasty flight towards the same point. The fastest of all was the wind;then the huge seething billows, heavier and slower, toiling after;and, lastly, the smack, dragged into the general whirl. The wavestracked her down with their white crests, tumbling onward in continualmotion, and she--though always being caught up to and outrun--stillmanaged to elude them by means of the eddying waters she spurned inher wake, upon which they vented their fury. In this similitude offlight the sensation particularly experienced was of buoyancy, thedelight of being carried along without effort or trouble, in a springysort of way. The /Marie/ mounted over the waves without any shaking,as if the wind had lifted her clean up; and her subsequent descent wasa slide. She almost slid backward, though, at times, the mountainslowering before her as if continuing to run, and then she suddenlyfound herself dropped into one of the measureless hollows that evadedher also; without injury she sounded its horrible depths, amid a loudsplashing of water, which did not even sprinkle her decks, but wasblown on and on like everything else, evaporating in finer and finerspray until it was thinned away to nothing. In the trough it wasdarker, and when each wave had passed the men looked behind them tosee if the next to appear were higher; it came upon them with furiouscontortions, and curling crests, over its transparent emerald body,seeming to shriek: "Only let me catch you, and I'll swallow youwhole!"But this never came to pass, for, as a feather, the billows softlybore them up and then down so gently; they felt it pass under them,with all its boiling surf and thunderous roar. And so on continually,but the sea getting heavier and heavier. One after another rushed thewaves, more and more gigantic, like a long chain of mountains, withyawning valleys. And the madness of all this movement, under the ever-darkening sky, accelerated the height of the intolerable clamour.

　　Yann and Sylvestre stood at the helm, still singing, "Jean Francois deNantes"; intoxicated with the quiver of speed, they sang out loudly,laughing at their inability to hear themselves in this prodigiouswrath of the wind.

　　"I say, lads, does it smell musty up here too?" called out Guermeur tothem, passing his bearded face up through the half-open hatchway, likeJack-in-the-box.

　　Oh, no! it certainly did not smell musty on deck. They were not at allfrightened, being quite conscious of what men can cope with, havingfaith in the strength of their barkey and their arms. And theyfurthermore relied upon the protection of that china Virgin, which hadvoyaged forty years to Iceland, and so often had danced the dance ofthis day, smiling perpetually between her branches of artificialflowers.

　　Generally speaking, they could not see far around them; a few hundredyards off, all seemed entombed in the fearfully big billows, withtheir frothing crests shutting out the view. They felt as if in anenclosure, continually altering shape; and, besides, all things seemeddrowned in the aqueous smoke, which fled before them like a cloud withthe greatest rapidity over the heaving surface. But from time to timea gleam of sunlight pierced through the north-west sky, through whicha squall threatened; a shuddering light would appear from above, arather spun-out dimness, making the dome of the heavens denser thanbefore, and feebly lighting up the surge. This new light was sad tobehold; far-off glimpses as they were, that gave too strong anunderstanding that the same chaos and the same fury lay on all sides,even far, far behind the seemingly void horizon; there was no limit toits expanse of storm, and they stood alone in its midst!

　　A tremendous tumult arose all about, like the prelude of anapocalypse, spreading the terror of the ultimate end of the earth. Andamidst it thousands of voices could be heard above, shrieking,bellowing, calling, as from a great distance. It was only the wind,the great motive breath of all this disorder, the voice of theinvisible power ruling all. Then came other voices, nearer and lessindefinite, threatening destruction, and making the water shudder andhiss as if on burning coals; the disturbance increased in terror.

　　Notwithstanding their flight, the sea began to gain on them, to "burythem up," as they phrased it: first the spray fell down on them frombehind, and masses of water thrown with such violence as to breakeverything in their course. The waves were ever increasing, and thetempest tore off their ridges and hurled them, too, upon the poop,like a demon's game of snowballing, till dashed to atoms on thebulwarks. Heavier masses fell on the planks with a hammering sound,till the /Marie/ shivered throughout, as if in pain. Nothing could bedistinguished over the side, because of the screen of creamy foam; andwhen the winds soughed more loudly, this foam formed into whirlingspouts, like the dust of the way in summer time. At length a heavyrain fell crossways, and soon straight up and down, and how all theseelements of destruction yelled together, clashed and interlocked, notongue can tell.

　　Yann and Sylvestre stuck staunchly to the helm, covered with theirwaterproofs, hard and shiny as sharkskin; they had firmly secured themat the throat by tarred strings, and likewise at wrists and ankles toprevent the water from running in, and the rain only poured off them;when it fell too heavily, they arched their backs, and held all themore stoutly, not to be thrown over the board. Their cheeks burned,and every minute their breath was beaten out or stopped.

　　After each sea was shipped and rushed over, they exchanged glances,grinning at the crust of salt settled in their beards.

　　In the long run though, this became tiresome, an unceasing fury, whichalways promised a worse visitation. The fury of men and beasts soonfalls and dies away; but the fury of lifeless things, without cause orobject, is as mysterious as life and death, and has to be borne forvery long.

　　"Jean Francois de Nantes;Jean Francois,Jean Francois!"Through their pale lips still came the refrain of the old song, but asfrom a speaking automaton, unconsciously taken up from time to time.

　　The excess of motion and uproar had made them dumb, and despite theiryouth their smiles were insincere, and their teeth chattered withcold; their eyes, half-closed under their raw, throbbing eyelids,remained glazed in terror. Lashed to the helm, like marble caryatides,they only moved their numbed blue hands, almost without thinking, bysheer muscular habit. With their hair streaming and mouths contracted,they had become changed, all the primitive wildness in man appearingagain. They could not see one another truly, but still were aware ofbeing companioned. In the instants of greatest danger, each time thata fresh mountain of water rose behind them, came to overtower them,and crash horribly against their boat, one of their hands would moveas if involuntarily, to form the sign of the cross. They no morethought of Gaud than of any other woman, or any marrying. The travailwas lasting too long, and they had no thoughts left. The intoxicationof noise, cold, and fatigue drowned all in their brain. They weremerely two pillars of stiffened human flesh, held up by the helm; twostrong beasts, cowering, but determined they would not be overwhelmed.