36 I N A G U A 



After an hour or two in the open savannah I was as happy 

 to leave it as I was to find it. The wind allowed no peace and 

 the plain was so utterly desolate as to be depressing. The place 

 gave the same feeling as I imagined one would have if suddenly 

 transported back to the early morning of the fifth day of crea- 

 tion. The earth and firmament were there and the grasses of 

 the third and fourth days were waving in the wind, but in the 

 early hours only the crabs and mollusks had been devised. The 

 remainder of creative existence was yet to come. 



The trail turned sharply toward the coast again and as I 

 entered the outposts of vegetation, life began to be apparent 

 once more. A black crowned night heron rose from an amber 

 pool where it had been standing pensively thinking of the min- 

 nows it had for supper the night before or of whatever it is 

 herons dream about; the liquid trilling of the little flycatchers 

 rose from between the thorn trees— it was the same sound I had 

 heard at dawn. These flycatchers, called Tom-fools by the na- 

 tives, are exceedingly curious. Their lives are a continuous burst 

 of song; happiness is their specialty. From branch to branch 

 they followed as I moved along. 



Before long I heard a famihar sound through the trees. It 

 was the surf again. The rocky soil disappeared and was replaced 

 by white shifting sand. Defiling from the trees I emerged on 

 the beach. It was Man-of-War Bay where the British squadron 

 was destroyed and where so many men gave up their lives. 

 But there was no hint of violence then; instead the sea was 

 calm and blue; a short distance from shore a sextette of pelicans 

 was gliding and flapping above a school of fish; even the reefs 

 were barely visible. The Bay was gorgeous. For several miles 

 a long row of tall cocoanut palms overhung the beach; it was 

 much more colorful than any portion of the island I had yet 

 seen. Beneath the palms were a long row of white houses. These, 

 like the dwellings in Mathewtown, were in ruins. A few still 



