Leonard Lindsay ; $b or, the story of a buccaneerReach, Angus B. (Angus Bethune)
General
Leonard Lindsay ; $b or, the story of a buccaneer
Reach, Angus B. (Angus Bethune)
Buccaneers -- Fiction; Historical fiction
followed, so that I was almost blinded and deafened, for I had never
seen or heard such terrible thunder or lightning; and then, at the
recommendation of Nicky, who said that the storm would probably clear
up with a squall, which we were ill prepared to face in the open
lagoon, we paddled into a little opening in the amphibious forest,
and made the canoe fast amid the trees. Here we abode for more than
half-an-hour, the thunder and lightning continuing to be fearful;
and the effect of each flash, gleaming down through the thick leaves
and branches of the network of boughs above us, and lighting up with
a grim glare the unwholesome marsh, with its slimy stake-like boles
of trees, its long twisting withes, and its black oily pools and
channels,—the effect of all this was, I say, very fearfully grand.
But at length the rain began to fall; the gloom deepened, so that
under the mangroves it was as murk as midnight; but gazing from
beneath them to the opposite side of the lagoon, we saw dimly a sort
of moving and rending of the vapoury clouds, and then a sudden and
perpendicular descent upon the hills of what appeared to be countless
streaks of mist or vapour, binding, as it were, the green earth by
webs of watery thread to the firmament. This, Nicky said, was the
rain, and truly we found it so; for the misty appearance spread fast
and far, and we heard a mighty rustling sound, which became louder
and louder, until the windows of heaven above us were opened, and
down, not in mere drops, as it appeared to me, but in opaque sheets
and masses of falling water, tumbled that blinding rain, lashing the
sea as though it were smitten by rods into churning foam, and beating
with a continuous assault our leafy canopy, until it poured through
the drenched branches in tiny waterfalls. Meanwhile we cowered in
the canoe dripping from every limb, and watching the weather over
the lagoon. Before long, there was a sudden rift or opening torn
through the veiling fog, and the perpendicular lines of the rain
became slanting, or were broken and dispersed. At the same moment,
we saw distant ridges which were hid and lost before in the vapour,
now standing out clearly and rigidly in the thinning air, and Nicky
whispered to me to note how the feathery palms were bending and
shaking, as though great airy hands were seeking to drag them up by
the roots. It was the clearing squall, and a few moments only passed
away ere heavy dank puffs sighed through the mangroves with a wet,
warm, unwholesome savour, as the steams of a caldron where masses of
putrid vegetation were simmering, and then, driving before it a broad
belt of tumbling foam, and whistling and hurtling through the air
with a sound as of rushing wings and blowing trumpets, the blast came
down from the far-off mountains and fell upon the sea. I have often
seen more violent squalls since, I have also been afloat and ashore
during a hurricane or tornado, but this was the first West Indian
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