HAITIAN CONTRASTS AND BEGINNINGS 



Next day broke clear as every day of February 

 does in Haiti and the last lights were hardly out in 

 Port-au-Prince across the bay as we began break- 

 fast in the mess-tent. We took the schooner's 

 big jolly-boat and towed one of our own, loaded 

 with a multitude of hand-nets and pails. West- 

 ward, across reefs and around headlands we went, 

 drawing a disturbed wake through emerald and 

 ultramarine in succession as we passed over 

 shallows and deeps. The surface was smooth 

 and rolling and in every direction there hung and 

 vibrated great moons of jellies, while between them 

 smaller jelly planetoids swam into our ken. 



Beyond the lighthouse we saw a half dozen 

 native boats over the reef, the owners pulling up 

 traps or spearing trunk-fish and sea-urchins, — 

 the latter for bait. Half a mile away was the 

 bright orange target triangle, and past us roared 

 the observer, sending down a friendly good- 

 morning wave. 



Something drew my eye upward to where a silver 

 mote hung in mid-air. It seemed motionless, but 

 as I watched, it edged slightly seaward to wind- 

 ward of the target, — ^the first plane had arrived 

 on time. It was all as planned and I enjoyed it to 

 the full. In an hour I would be collecting fish — 

 but I had not calculated on one small thing — a 

 sound. Without warning there came simultan- 

 eously a whine and a splash. The sound of the 

 bomb a mile overhead came to my ears exactly as 

 my eyes saw it strike the water, and from watchful 



17 



