^0-MAN'S-LAND FIVE FATHOMS DOWN 



The wall beyond visible distance precipitated a 

 score of smudges which darkened and finally 

 crystallized into a school of purple-finned surgeon 

 fish, accompanied by three angels, quite new to me. 



A great moon of jelly passed majestically, and 

 its shadow, apparently of far denser substance 

 than itself, swept across a sandy path beneath me, 

 for a moment sending a starfish into total eclipse. 

 Then a numberless school of tiny fish swam past 

 and around like a swarm of twinkling cometlets. 

 A mighty grouper sneered up, rolled his bulging 

 eyes up at my stream of bubbles and backed 

 away. Perfect quiet held for a time and then a 

 spotted shark — the first one since Galapagos — 

 weaved around a maze of lacy millepores, saw me, 

 hesitated, and went steadily on its way. 



I slid to the sand and looked about, and as 

 usual, it was borne upon me that no more imagin- 

 ary Martian or prehistoric landscape could be 

 imagined. Within sight were pebbles, boulders, 

 cliffs, fields of heather, beds of ragweed and phlox, 

 single plants in full bloom of chrysanthemums 

 and forget-me-nots, as well as shrubs, giant ferns 

 and mosses, and yet there was not a single strand 

 of vegetation, of algae even, — all were living 

 animals. No change need be made in the most 

 weird, most ultramodern of ballets, if the archi- 

 tecture and designs of undersea were copied 

 closely; the only criticism being that of gross 

 exaggeration. 



I chose today to walk a few yards or half drift 



41 



