352 I N A G U A 



prelude to all that followed. 



Then, as my eyes adjusted themselves to the dark, I began 

 to see other flashes, minute explosions that burst suddenly into 

 being and then passed forever out of sight. Reaching for the 

 searchlight I extracted it from its carrying hook, raised it at 

 arm's length and pressed the button. Instantly a long beam of 

 strong white light pierced the gloom and went penciling off 

 into the distance. I looked in vain for the makers of the tiny 

 flashing Hghts but they were nowhere to be seen. A few drift- 

 ing motes, slightly resembling sunbeams, floated through the 

 ocean, watery counterparts of the dust that drifts in the air 

 over the land. Turning the beam off, I waited until my pupils 

 had once more expanded to their fullest capacity. Sure enough 

 the lights became visible once again, only this time I saw many 

 more, until on my straining retinas the world registered as a 

 galaxy of little star-points, a cosmos of pale Fourth of July 

 sparklers without the glowing stems. The lights were the 

 energy-burstings of hundreds of microscopic animalcules, 

 whose bodies too small to be visible under natural illumination 

 were betrayed by the energy they expended. 



Turning on the flash again I swept it in a wide arc. The 

 lovely evanescent blue of daytime was gone; in its place was 

 a long beam of yellow surrounded on each side by purplish 

 gloom. The water, however, was crystal clear and the rays 

 brilliantly brought into vision any objects within their reach. 

 Arching my back so I could see above me I pointed the light 

 toward the surface. It was as molten and as impenetrable as 

 ever. Casting the light in another direction I focused it in mid- 

 water, started to sweep it in an arc down to the bottom— then 

 held it rigid. 



A briUiant flash, many times brighter than the rays of the 

 electric bulb suddenly burst back at me. It lasted for only a 

 second and then vanished. Its source was far away but in the 



