Centre Democrat. [volume] (Bellefonte, Pa.) 1848-1989, 1879-03-27
A Romance of Martinique.

the island of Martinique. Then you
have heard them speak Of the Caravelle.
IL is q wild isthmus, 80 called by the
sailors from Spanish wreck. The sea
is always raging wildly enough there.
All, you should see the waves as they
leap madly on the rocks. Then they
break into dazzling white sorm-sheets
q furlong broad-and then fall back in
vain. And It is always going on; it
never ceases. There my fathers house
was situated.
But further down, the country
changes entirely; it becomes perfectly
fascinating. The two sides Of the 18TH
mus resembling two fairy lakes. It was
for this reason that its proprietor, the
Count de Saint Croix. called il Beau
Seiour-the beautiful home.
The Saint Croix family and ours
formed, so to speak, only one, we wore
50 intimate. Francis, the counts only
son, was like brother with my sister
and me.
ANY one who had seen us, three-in.
hand, running like deer over the sand,
our hair lifted by the breeze, mingling
our laughter with the murmur of the
waves, would have believed that there
are some happy beings here on earth.
Our greatest pleasure was to run out
on the cages, or sand bars, and hunt for
shells. We left at sunrise, n little
basket on our arms. The songs of the
negroes, fishing in their log canoes,
came 10 Us over the water.
One winter day we returned from run
ming on the sands. 1t was an evening
foreboding storm. Distant lightnings
darted across the sky. Julie was de-
layed by endeavoring to tear up from q
seafan shell. The tide rose until the
sandbank on which she stood became an
island. The poor girl became alarmed,
and lifting her arms, cried loud for as
sistance. Her long black braids tapped
IN the storm-wind, and coiled like SER
pents around her neck.
The negroes, hearing the cry, came in
their canoes. Before they arrived,
Francis had swan across, and stood by
my sister, supporting her.
They carried her beneath the palm
trees which bordered the shore. With
her arms entwined around her brother,
she cast on him glances Of love but
from time to time look regretfully to-
ward the island.
"Who will bring me my shell 2" she
cried at last.
And, as II she had power 10 command
the elementary spirits, there suddenly
arose deep strange voice, which eI-
claimed, eft"
A man of copper hue, gray eyes,
brows, long hair dripping with salt
water, came forth from the waves, bear
ing the wished-for shell.
"Father Sassa cried all the negroes.
Father Sassa was neither white. mu
latto, nor black He was Of the indigo
nous Carib race. His family, : last
remnant of the original tribes found by
the Spaniards. had escaped the massa
cres of civilization, and taken refuge
among the rocks of our wild peninsula.
But the family had been sadly reduced,
and Sgssa alone survived. He bore the
title Of cacique. though without subjects
to rule. His name was Hassagari. but
the blacks following their custom of
giving diminutives, always called him
Father Sassa.
he had brought the longed-for shell
TO Julie. When he first heard her cry
he plunged into the waves.
"Ah what . horrible shell r. cried.
perceiving q dark mass in the hand of
the Carib. "Why, 'tisnt worth the
pain il has cost. Throw il back into
the sea. Father Sassa."
"To the sea 10 the sea |" cried all
the negroes.
But the Carib, deaf to these murmurs.
advanced with us under the shade of
the cocoa trees.
"Ldttle whites" said he, "you love
what shines, and for that reason do not
throw away this shell. IL Is colorless
on the surface, but II CLEANS within.
The stars Of night have marked its
heart"
"What, Father Sassa," We cried.
"do you mean 70 say you can see
through the shellf"
The cacique stretched out q hand
toward the last rock Of The Caravelle.
where his little hut cleaned out and
,anished every moment In the frequent
lightning.
Come there" said he. "and you
Will learn more"
And entering his canoe, he disap-
peared.
The lightning grew more brilliant !:
large drops, quickly falling. announced
coming tropical hurricane. We hast
ened honeward, bearing the shell.
The next morning the banana trees
beaten down In the 6elda. the uprooied
trees borne afar By torrents. were the
only indications Of the storm Of The
previous night. The heaven and The
see rested. calm and beautiful. after
their Wild passions had been gratified.
We started for the cabin OF Father
Eassa.
1--WE found the Carib seated on large
stone before his dwelling, preparing
nets for fishing. Seeing us he raised
his heavy eyebrows; his strange eyes
cleaned as with q Rrati6ed feeling that
we bad remembered him and what he
had told ms the evening before.