We now proceeded northward, coasting with great care a succession of
small rocky islands that appeared to be uninhabited. As we proceeded,
the weather became rough and tempestuous, the sea running so high that
it sometimes threatened to engulf us. During the whole of our voyage we
had not met with such a mountainous sea.
At last we perceived a land to the north, trending to the north-east,
of which the coast seemed to be one continuous rock, remarkably level
at the top, and of a reddish colour, against which the sea broke with
such fury as to make a landing impossible, but Donna Isabel declared
this rock to be one of the islands of Armenio we had come in search of.
As there were no other islands to be seen, we concluded that during the
ages which had passed since the white-skinned people inhabited them,
the continuous beating of the waves had gradually demolished the
islands until nothing remained but the plateau of red rock to which we
had come, and over which the sea sometimes swept in a mass of foam.
But, having come to the island of her dreams, Donna Isabel would not
leave it until we had ascertained, beyond doubt, that a landing was
impracticable.
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