I tried to reason with myself.  My will made me resolve not to be afraid, but there was something in me besides my will, and that other thing was afraid.  I asked myself what there was to be afraid of.  My brave “ego” ridiculed my coward “ego,” and never did I realize, as on that day, the existence in us of two rival personalities, one desiring a thing, the other resisting, and each winning the day in turn.

This stupid, inexplicable fear increased, and became terror.  I remained motionless, my eyes staring, my ears on the stretch with expectation.  Of what?  I did not know, but it must be something terrible.  I believe if it had occurred to a fish to jump out of the water, as often happens, nothing more would have been required to make me fall over, stiff and unconscious.

However, by a violent effort I succeeded in becoming almost rational again.  I took up my bottle of rum and took several pulls.  Then an idea came to me, and I began to shout with all my might towards all the points of the compass in succession.  When my throat was absolutely paralyzed I listened.  A dog was howling, at a great distance.

I drank some more rum and stretched myself out at the bottom of the boat.  I remained there about an hour, perhaps two, not sleeping, my eyes wide open, with nightmares all about me.  I did not dare to rise, and yet I intensely longed to do so.  I delayed it from moment to moment.  I said to myself:  “Come, get up!” and I was afraid to move.  At last I raised myself with infinite caution as though my life depended on the slightest sound that I might make; and looked over the edge of the boat.  I was dazzled by the most marvellous, the most astonishing sight that it is possible to see.  It was one of those phantasmagoria of fairyland, one of those sights described by travellers on their return from distant lands, whom we listen to without believing.

The fog which, two hours before, had floated on the water, had gradually cleared off and massed on the banks, leaving the river absolutely clear; while it formed on either bank an uninterrupted wall six or seven metres high, which shone in the moonlight with the dazzling brilliance of snow.  One saw nothing but the river gleaming with light between these two white mountains; and high above my head sailed the great full moon, in the midst of a bluish, milky sky.

All the creatures in the water were awake.  The frogs croaked furiously, while every few moments I heard, first to the right and then to the left, the abrupt, monotonous and mournful metallic note of the bullfrogs.  Strange to say, I was no longer afraid.  I was in the midst of such an unusual landscape that the most remarkable things would not have astonished me.

How long this lasted I do not know, for I ended by falling asleep.  When I opened my eyes the moon had gone down and the sky was full of clouds.  The water lapped mournfully, the wind was blowing, it was pitch dark.  I drank the rest of the rum, then listened, while I trembled, to the rustling of the reeds and the foreboding sound of the river.  I tried to see, but could not distinguish my boat, nor even my hands, which I held up close to my eyes.