At first a noise, so much like that of a hurricane that it caused me to throw myself flat on the ground, succeeded to the death-like silence with which these creatures were regarding the sight of the blazing volcano before they were disturbed by my presence.
They were welcoming me.
Their eternal enemy, man, was in their midst.
And a man, too, who had sold apes!
A man who had even sold several of those present when at Macao.
A man who had forced them to beat tambourines and leap through hoops.
A man who had sometimes flogged them to make them dance with a rose behind the ear, a shepherd’s hat on the head, and a crook in the hand.
A man who had also cruelly deprived them of food and drink, because they would not put on scarlet breeches and ruffles, and bow and scrape in the ancient French fashion.
What ought I not to expect?
Karabouffi the First, seated on the block of lava, was presiding over this gathering—as for the matter of that, he presided over everything in this island, which had become subjected, I know not how, to his sovereignty. His ministers, as we have already seen, were only his servants and executioners.