BENEATH TROPIC SEAS 



could see, and I did not lose it until it had become 

 the tiniest of white motes against the green dis- 

 tance. 



Cap Haitien came into sight suddenly and we 

 made a great circle over the harbor, seeing the log 

 wharf which, after an earthquake, sank evenly but 

 wholly beneath the surface. There were no real 

 reefs to be seen, and little shelter from the open 

 sea. The shore appeared to be chiefly white sand. 

 Halfway across the landing field, we discovered 

 that the rest was damp or wet sand, and the 

 Major turned almost in his tracks, a close enough 

 shave to a turnover. 



After five minutes, up we got and went for the 

 citadel. On the way we passed over Sans Souci, 

 and then followed the winding ribbon of road, 

 twisting up from the plain to the great structure. 

 First we circled slowly, at a distance, then, bank- 

 ing until we were all but vertical, we swept around 

 again so close that it seemed as if I could reach out 

 and snatch a bit of moss from the stones. I am 

 glad that this has been my only sight, for I shall 

 not think of it as a ruin. The view from the air, 

 running as we were at eighty miles an hour, and 

 yet circling, so that the building and ourselves 

 maintained the same relative positions, revealed 

 it as it must have been when weathered but in its 

 prime. I did not register the fallen roofs or the 

 rust on the cannon. The prow of the great Citadel 

 was the unforgettable thing. 



We were swinging homewards, through the heat 



106 



