THE blow from the broken tree-top must have been a fairly forceful one.
When I began to get acquainted with current affairs again, I was lying
in a hammock swung between two trees, the gale had blown itself out,
and the sun was shining.
At a little distance I could see the tents of the new camp, but there
seemed to be nobody stirring. Overhead the bedraggled fronds of the
palms were waving in a gentle breeze aftermath of the great storm, and
the thunder of the surf on the reef told me that the sea had not yet
fully subsided.
I moved a bit and put a leg over the hammock's edge, meaning to get up,
but at that, Van Dyck materialized from somewhere and put the leg back
again.
"No hurry about turning out, old man," he said gently. "How are you
feeling by now?"