Painted Faces and Long Hair

           Thefirstrhythmthattheybecameusedtowastheslowswingfromdawntoquickdusk.Theyacceptedthepleasuresofmorning,thebrightsun,thewhelmingseaandsweetair,asatimewhenplaywasgoodandlifesofullthathopewasnotnecessaryandthereforeforgotten.Towardnoon,asthefloodsoflightfellmorenearlytotheperpendicular,thestarkcolorsofthemorningweresmoothedinpearlandopalescence;andtheheat—asthoughtheimpendingsun’sheightgaveitmomentum—becameablowthattheyducked,runningtotheshadeandlyingthere,perhapsevensleeping.

           Strangethingshappenedatmidday.Theglitteringsearoseup,movedapartinplanesofblatantimpossibility;thecoralreefandthefewstuntedpalmsthatclungtothemoreelevatedpartswouldfloatupintothesky,wouldquiver,bepluckedapart,runlikeraindropsonawireorberepeatedasinanoddsuccessionofmirrors.Sometimeslandloomedwheretherewasnolandandflickedoutlikeabubbleasthechildrenwatched.Piggydiscountedallthislearnedlyasa"mirage";andsincenoboycouldreacheventhereefoverthestretchofwaterwherethesnappingsharkswaited,theygrewaccustomedtothesemysteriesandignoredthem,justastheyignoredthemiraculous,throbbingstars.Atmiddaytheillusionsmergedintotheskyandtherethesungazeddownlikeanangryeye.Then,attheendoftheafternoon;themiragesubsidedandthehorizonbecamelevelandblueandclippedasthesundeclined.Thatwasanothertimeofcomparativecoolnessbutmenacedbythecomingofthedark.Whenthesunsank,darknessdroppedontheislandlikeanextinguisherandsoontheshelterswerefullofrestlessness,undertheremotestars.

           Nevertheless,thenorthernEuropeantraditionofwork,play,andfoodrightthroughtheday,madeitpossibleforthemtoadjustthemselveswhollytothisnewrhythm.