AN ISLAND EXISTENCE 85 



It was morning. Sunlight streamed through the open win- 

 dows, crawled slowly across the floor, crept across our bodies 

 and suffused the coral walls with a golden glow. Our figures, 

 prone and sprawling, moved slightly, stretched, yawned and 

 fell prone again. It was good to lie thus, soaking up the sun- 

 shine, drowsing away the morning hours. Reaction had set in. 

 Tired from the sea, tired of worrying about museums and 

 equipment, we were taking it easy. There was no hurry, for 

 the moment at least, and we closed our eyes and drowsed. 

 Beyond the tent, beyond a little slope of rock rose a faint mur- 

 muring—swish and sigh, swish and sigh again— the sound of a 

 gentle, almost calm sea purring against the rocks. The trade 

 wind had slackened and the breakers were hardly lifting- 

 swish and sigh, they said, swish and sigh, like a faint watery 

 metronome beating away the time. No hurry now, no hurry— 

 A lizard crept by the open door, paused statuesquely a moment, 

 and departed in quest of a bug. Birds began to call, vague whis- 

 perings of unseen wings, the gentle cooing of doves. From 

 the soil beneath came clean, green smells, the odor of crushed 

 leaves, blossoms, scent of prickly pear. It was an island morning 

 —sea sounds, birds, peace and quiet, the glow of sunshine. We 

 stirred again and opened our eyes. 



Wally grinned, turned and yawned again. 



*'Damn it," he said, "I feel good." And he jumped to his feet, 

 threw off his remaining clothes and raced down to the rocks. 

 With a mighty shout he flung into the air and plunged into the 

 depths. A tremendous splash rose skywards and he disappeared 

 into the blue followed by a great streaming line of bubbles. 

 I felt good, too, and for the first time in weeks felt relaxed. 

 "De blessin" was already upon us. 



After the swim we loafed on the rocks, soaking up the sun- 

 shine, watching the surf pile up on the coral and slide back 

 again. A big four-masted schooner hovered far out to sea, com- 



