AN ISLAND EXISTENCE 79 



We rested silently, watching the seething water. It was the 

 first time we had had in several weeks to be alone, to think a 

 bit. Expedition gone, property tied up, money unavailable, 

 greedy natives waiting to snatch our goods, we needed a few 

 minutes to ourselves. The picture did not look too cheerful. 

 What were the museum people going to think? What were 

 we going to write them? How to explain the fiasco? 



Coleman broke into the reverie. 



"You know," he said, half thoughtfully, "this is a right 

 pretty place, the way the surf slides up on those rocks, up there 

 is a break in the cliff with a bit of sand beach, and there is a lot 

 of cacti in back to give us privacy— why can't we locate here, 

 possibly we could build ourselves one of those coral houses 

 and save something out of this expedition after all? There is 

 nothing for us down there in the town, and the inhabitants 

 don't seem so cheerful. How about it?" 



I glanced at the great mounds of swelling water, the brown 

 coral rock, the sunlit beach, the green vegetation behind. It was 

 a pretty spot. Why not? About us were tons of loose boulders 

 and palmetto plants in abundance. There was plenty of ma- 

 terial. 



Why not? I jumped to my feet, hope swelling again. But 

 then the thought came that we had no tools, not even an axe. 

 Perhaps we could persuade the Commissioner to let us have a 

 few necessities until he heard from Nassau. It was decided that 

 I should return to the settlement and talk to the official while 

 Coleman scouted around for a good location for camp. 



The ebony-faced Commissioner, still faintly smihng, heard 

 my request for a few necessities, hesitatingly agreed— he seemed 

 not nearly so cold a fellow on second sight— gave the uni- 

 formed aide a key and told him to allow us to secure what we 

 needed from our supplies which had been ferried from the 

 boats to a stone shed. He turned to me then, explained that he 



