V. THE BAPTISM OF THE PENGUINS

After having drifted for an hour the holy man approached a narrow
strand, shut in by steep mountains. He went along the coast for a whole
day and a night, passing around the reef which formed an insuperable
barrier. He discovered in this way that it was a round island in
the middle of which rose a mountain crowned with clouds. He joyfully
breathed the fresh breath of the moist air. Rain fell, and this rain was
so pleasant that the holy man said to the Lord:

"Lord, this is the island of tears, the island of contrition."

The strand was deserted. Worn out with fatigue and hunger, he sat down
on a rock in the hollow of which there lay some yellow eggs, marked with
black spots, and about as large as those of a swan. But he did not touch
them, saying:

"Birds are the living praises of God. I should not like a single one of
these praises to be lacking through me."

And he munched the lichens which he tore from the crannies of the rocks.

The holy man had gone almost entirely round the island without meeting
any inhabitants, when he came to a vast amphitheatre formed of black and
red rocks whose summits became tinged with blue as they rose towards the
clouds, and they were filled with sonorous cascades.

The reflection from the polar ice had hurt the old man's eyes, but
a feeble gleam of light still shone through his swollen eyelids. He