384 I N A G U A 



They were accompanied by red and blue parrotfish whose 

 errands in the depths were something of a mystery, for the 

 Hmit of the vegetation on which they fed was near the cUif 

 edge. Yet there were great numbers and presumably they 

 divided their time between the rocks on shore and some shad- 

 owy crags far below. 



My last view of this edge of a world was one of the most 

 awe-inspiring sights I have ever seen. I determined to go down 

 as far as I dared and the pressure would permit. After a short 

 rest I crept out to the very edge of the brim and, grasping the 

 life line, let myself over. The sand started sliding beneath my 

 feet, but I held fast and crept downwards. The slope was quite 

 steep, but with the steadying line I managed to keep upright. 

 Down I went, slowly, blowing hard through my nose to re- 

 lieve the pressure on my eardrums. Down ten feet, fifteen, 

 twenty. 



I looked up. There was no hint of the surface. I was down ^^ 

 feet. Not much as modern diving goes, but a lot for the light 

 equipment I was using. I knew that I should go no further. 

 But something drew me down. Curiosity again, that indefina- 

 ble urge to see what is around the corner, to go a few feet 

 more and a few more. I was beginning to feel the pressure. A 

 heavy weight seemed to be pressing against my stomach and 

 chest, and I was breathing heavily. Sixty feet. My head began 

 to swim. Sixty-five. 



I hurriedly looked about. Down as far as I could see there 

 was nothing but sand sloping away into infinity, sand and 

 utter darkness, the most mysterious quiet darkness I have ever 

 beheld. There was something terrifying about it— it was so 

 vague, so intangible. I turned back and struggled up the slope. 

 High above, over the rim poured a halo of golden light. My 

 head was reeling from the unaccustomed pressure. Hand over 



