30 JUNGLE PEACE 



steadily out at the passing steamer and vanished 

 among the shadows of the ruins. It was star- 

 tlingly like the first grain of sand which an ant 

 brings out after a passing heel has crushed 

 its nest. But however vivid the simile, the domi- 

 nant thought was hope. At least one ant had 

 faith in a new ant-nest of the future, and the 

 somber picture of the negress, her basket of 

 black lava poured into the equally black waters, 

 was suddenly framed in high relief by the 

 thought of a new St. Pierre. The great 

 mountain still rumbled and smoked* One 

 at least believed in a home in its very 

 shadows. 



But the end was not yet. The island had 

 been for me unhappily visited; its passing had 

 been a sudden, wonderfully dynamic vision. 

 And now I shut my eyes again to strive to in- 

 terpret and to fix indelibly in mind this vision 

 and all the network of thoughts it wove. Again 

 the roar from below and the gentle rise and for- 

 ward surge calmed and rested me. And the 

 thought of the unhappy morning was become 

 dim and carried no resentment. 



Ten minutes later I looked up again and 

 found all changed no ruthless, startling shift 



