42 I N A G U A 



thing turn black. And just when he was about to lapse into 

 unconsciousness a roller surged into the massed wreckage and 

 released him. He struggled to the companionway, crawled to 

 the deck and lay there panting and coughing water. 



Morning came and passed and by late afternoon we were 

 still working. All this while the wind had grown stronger until 

 the hour arrived when we knew it was too dangerous to return 

 to the wreck. Wearily we swam ashore for the last time, 

 plodded through the soft beach sand, climbed the bluff back 

 of the beach and, there, exhausted, flung ourselves on the 

 ground. 



The sea had won. 



For a time we lay inert, too tired to move. The sun mean- 

 while dipped lower and lower, the shadows grew longer. Rous- 

 ing ourselves, we looked about for a sign of humans or human 

 habitation. There was none. Behind, the land sloped away to a 

 perfectly semicircular lagoon of emerald green water edged 

 by a pure white beach. Beyond that was the open sea again. 

 About five miles away could be seen the dim outlines of a small 

 island. To the south the land stretched away in low ridges and 

 shallow valleys. We were on the extreme tip of some large 

 island. A hundred yards further north our ship would have 

 cleared the reefs and been saved. 



No use crying about it. The expedition was washed up— 

 literally. Through a tangled mass of thatch palm, round leaf 

 sea grape and cacti we made our way down the slope to the 

 lagoon. What a beautiful anchorage it would have made. Per- 

 haps on the sand we would find some evidence of man. There 

 was. A jumble of cut sticks that had been severed from their 

 stalks months before, and some discarded conch shells that had 

 been broken open. Nothing more. 



There was one thing more in store for us that evening. We 

 were to witness one of the most beautiful sights in nature, one 



