ISLANDS 39 



ing, comfortably undulating hills were below us, 

 and in front a taller, rounded one like the head of 

 some wearied tropical giant. Beyond this, a long 

 curved arm of richest green had been stretched 

 carelessly out into the sea, inclosing a bay, 

 which from our height, looked like a small pool, 

 but such a pool as would grace a Dunsany tale. 

 It was limpid, its surface like glass and of the 

 most exquisite turquoise. Its inner rim was of 

 pure white sand, a winding line bounding tur- 

 quoise water and the rich, dark green of the 

 sloping land in a flattened figure three. I never 

 knew before that turquoise had a hundred tints 

 and shades, but here the film nearest the sand 

 was unbelievably pale and translucent, then a 

 deeper sheen overlaid the surface, while the 

 center of the pool was shaded with the inde- 

 scribable pigment of sheer depth. In a great 

 frame of shifting emerald and cobalt, set a shin- 

 ing blue wing of a morpho butterfly and you 

 can visualize this wonder scene. 



Outside the encircling green arm, the water 

 of ocean glowed ultramarine in the slanting sun- 

 light, and stretched on and on to the curving 

 horizon of Atlantis. The scene seemed the 

 essence of peace, and to the casual glance hardly 



