The wind which had arisen when darkness fell blew north and north-west, and drove the flames towards Cayenne. The Nut, feeling instinctively that animals were fleeing in the opposite direction, that is to say with the wind behind them, tried to persuade Chéri-Bibi to turn towards the north-east; but he stopped him with a word.
"That way we are bound to meet warders who must be preparing to bar our passage. Do as I say, and don't let's leave the fire."
The Nut did as he said, thinking to himself that though they were almost certain, of course, to avoid the warders by fleeing in this direction, they ran considerable risk of being roasted alive. As a matter of fact they felt that the greatest heat from the furnace was behind them.
Now they cut a caper.
"That's done it; we're saved," exclaimed Chéri-Bibi. And he pointed through the tropical climbers which were already beginning to crackle around them, to the crimson waters of a river.
"The river . . . the Kourou river!"
A few minutes later they swam across it.
"Look out for alligators!" cried Chéri-Bibi, and then immediately afterwards sinking his voice: "Under water. . . . Put your mug under water. . . . Warders about! . . . I prefer alligators."
At that moment a launch filled with warders sent in pursuit of them, hove in sight at the bend of the river.
Hiding themselves in the thick of a mass of reeds and aquatic plants, Chéri-Bibi and the Nut were obliged repeatedly to dive to avoid being seen in the dazzling light of the conflagration, for the giant trees of the ages-old forest seemed like prodigious candles uniting heaven and earth in one glow and one illumination.