86 I N A G U A 



ing north out of the Windward Passage. She was heading back 

 to America, probably, loaded with logwood from Haiti. "We 

 might catch one of them," mused Wally, but I could see that 

 he was not serious. No, there was no use in going home. It was 

 cold back there, and the sun was not shining— not like this at 

 least— and there was no warm blue sea to swim in. True, we 

 did not know where the next meal was coming from, but for 

 the moment it did not matter— we felt good. Down on the 

 rocks, and above near the hut, swarmed myriads of slithering 

 crabs and dashing lizards; species new to us, many of them; and 

 birds, honey creepers, warblers and doves; and all the host of 

 sea creatures. We knew nothing about them, their ways, their 

 habits, their places in the scheme of things. Curiosity, if noth- 

 ing else, would hold us fast. 



But *'de blessin" was not to come so easily, for we still had 

 to eat and all our equipment was in the hands of the negro 

 Commissioner. We walked down to the settlement again, hop- 

 ing against hope that the government at Nassau would have 

 advised the Commissioner to release our materials. Mathew- 

 town had one modern piece of equipment, a small radio station 

 maintained by the British Government. By this time some 

 word should have come. We thanked heaven for the miracle of 

 wireless for without it we would have been in a sorry plight 

 indeed. 



Later in the day a message arrived and, as we expected, 

 the Colonial Government issued instructions to release all 

 our materials and to show us every courtesy. Still faintly 

 smiling, the Commissioner notified us of the decision and gave 

 us the key to the stone shed. Other than a very slight unbending 

 in his manner he never changed. He was the most rigid man 

 I ever met. Later I understood, for he had a problem on his 

 hands. As a Negro, with the destiny of the island in his keeping, 

 as the final court of appeal, as administrator of his tiny domain, 



