behind it. The huge rock looming in the mist was like a gigantic black
woman with a hood of fire.

That ill-famed rock is called the Biblet. It faces the north
side the reef, which on the south is faced by another ridge,
L'Etacq-aux-giulmets. The chief looked at the Biblet, and shouted,--

"A man with a will to take a rope to the rock! Who can swim?"

No answer.

No one on board knew how to swim, not even the sailors--an ignorance not
uncommon among seafaring people.

A beam nearly free of its lashings was swinging loose. The chief clasped
it with both hands, crying, "Help me."

They unlashed the beam. They had now at their disposal the very thing
they wanted. From the defensive, they assumed the offensive.

It was a longish beam of heart of oak, sound and strong, useful either
as a support or as an engine of attack--a lever for a burden, a ram
against a tower.

"Ready!" shouted the chief.

All six, getting foothold on the stump of the mast, threw their weight
on the spar projecting over the side, straight as a lance towards a
projection of the cliff.