"How terrible the sea is!" said the Prince of Nagato, when he was safe on shore. "How it howls, how it roars! What despair, what frenzy urges it on! Does it not seem to fly the pursuit of some powerful enemy? It is indeed a miracle that we have escaped."
"People don't always escape, unfortunately," said Raiden; "it devours many a poor sailor. How many of my comrades lie beneath its waves! I sometimes think I hear them in the storm; and I believe that it is with the voice of shipwrecked men that the sea laments and groans."
All the boats had now landed without serious mishap, although some were partly shattered by the violence with which they were hurled against the shore.
"Where are we?" said the Prince. "Let us try to find out."
The boats were drawn as far as possible out of reach of the sea and the party left the smooth, white beach, which stretched as far as eye could see.
Above the low dune formed by the drifted sand was a broad and partially cultivated plain, which seemed to be deserted. A few huts were in sight, towards which they went. They called aloud, but no one answered.
"The noise of the wind has deafened us," said Loo; and he began to thump on the doors with fists and feet. The huts were empty.
"It seems we are in the table of Hieyas on the chess-board which you just mentioned," said Raiden; "the peasants would not fly from the Shogun's troops."
"If we are near the enemy, so much the better," said the Prince, "since we are in search of them."
"How black it is!" cried Loo. "It seems like night."