358 THE OCEAN. 
the thunder ceases, and nothing is heard but the 
continued pouring of the rain, and the rushing of 
rising streams. The next day presents a gloomy 
spectacle: the rain still descends in torrents, and 
scarcely allows a view of the blackened fields; the 
rivers are swollen and discoloured, and sweep down 
along with them the hedges, the huts,-and the re- 
mains of the cultivation which was carried on during 
the dry season in their beds.’’* 
The effect upon the sea is graphically depicted by 
Mr. Forbes: “At Anjengo,” observes this author, 
“the monsoon commences with great severity, and 
presents an awful spectacle: the inclement weather 
continues with more or less violence, from May 
to October. During that period the tempestuous 
Ocean rolls from a black horizon, literally of ‘ dark- 
ness visible,’ a series of floating mountains heaving 
under hoary summits, until they approach the shore; 
when their stupendous accumulations flow in suc- 
cessive surges, and’ break upon the beach; every 
ninth wave is observed to be generally more tre- 
mendous than the rest, and threatens to overwhelm 
the settlement. The noise of these billows equals 
that of the loudest cannon, and with the thunder 
and lightning so frequent in the rainy season, is 
truly awful. During the tedious monsoon I passed 
at Anjengo, I often stood upon the trembling sand- 
bank to contemplate the solemn scene, and derive 
a comfort from that sublime and omnipotent decree, 
‘Hitherto shalt thou come, but no further; and, 
here shall thy proud waves be stayed !’ + 
* Account of Caubul, p. 126. + Oriental Memoirs. 
