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We have reached the most southerly habitation of the world； a town born of the chance presence of a little mud between the timeless lava and the austral ice。 So near the black scoria； how thrilling it is to feel the miraculous nature of man！ What a strange encounter！ Who knows how； or why； man visits these gardens ready to hand； habitable for so short a time … a geologic age … for a single day blessed among days？
I landed in the peace of evening。 Punta Arenas ！ I leaned against a fountain and looked at the girls in the square。 Standing there within a couple of feet of their grace； I felt more poignantly than ever the human mystery。
In a world in which life so perfectly responds to life； where flowers mingle with flowers in the wind's eye； where the swan is the familiar of all swans； man alone builds his isolation。 What a space between men their spiritual natures create！ A girl's reverie isolates her from me； and how shall I enter into it？ What can one know of a girl who passes； walking with slow steps homeward； eyes lowered； smiling to herself； filled with adorable inventions and with fables？ Out of the thoughts； the voice； the silences of a lover； she can form an empire； and thereafter she sees in all the world but him a people of barbarians。 More surely than if she were on another planet； I feel her to be locked up in her language； in her secret； in her habits； in the singing echoes of her memory。 Born yesterday of the volcanoes； of greenswards； of brine of the sea； she walks here already half divine。
Punta Arenas ！ I lean against a fountain。 Old women e up to draw water： of their drama I shall know nothing but these gestures of farm servants。 A child； his head against a wall； weeps in silence： there will remain of him in my memory only a beautiful child forever inconsolable。 I am a stranger。 I know nothing。 I do not enter into their empires。 Man in the presence of man is as solitary as in the face of a wide winter sky in which there sweeps； never to be tamed； a flight of trumpeting geese。
How shallow is the stage on which this vast drama of human hates and joys and friendships is played！ Whence do men draw this passion for eternity； flung by chance as they are upon a scarcely cooled bed of lava； threatened from the beginning by the deserts that are to be； and under the constant menace of the snows？ Their civilizations …are but fragile gildings： a volcano can blot them out； a new sea； a sand…storm。
This town seemed to be built upon a true humus； a soil one might imagine to be as rich as the wheatlands of the Beauce。 These men live heedless of the fact that； here as elsewhere； life is a luxury； and that nowhere on the globe is the soil really rich beneath the feet of men。
Yet； ten miles from Punta Arenas there is a lake that ought to be reminding them of this。 Surrounded by stunted trees and squat huts； as modest as a pool in a farm…yard； this lake is subject to the preternatural pull of the tides。 Night and day； among the peaceful realities of swaying reeds and playing children； it performs its slow respiration； obedient to unearthly laws。 Beneath the glassy surface； beneath the motionless ice； beneath the keel of the single dilapidated bark on the waters； the energy of the moon is at work。 Ocean eddies stir in the depths of this black mass。 Strange digestions take their peristaltic course there and down as far as the Straits of Magellan； under the thin layer of grasses and flowers。 This lake that is a hundred yards wide； that laps the threshold of a town which seems to be built on man's own earth and where men believe themselves secure； beats with the pulse of the sea。
II
But by the grace of the airplane I have known a more extraordinary experience than this； and have been made to ponder with even more bewilderment the fact that this earth that is our home is yet in truth a wandering star。
A minor accident had forced me down in the Rio de Oro region； in Spanish Africa。 Landing on one of those table…lands of the Sahara which fall away steeply at the sides； I found myself on the flat top of the frustum of a cone； an isolated vestige of a plateau that had crumbled round the edges。 In this part of the Sahara such truncated cones are visible from the air every hundred miles or so； their smooth surfaces always at about the same altitude above the desert and their geologic substance always identical。 The surface sand is posed of minute and distinct shells； but progressively as you dig along a vertical section； the shells bee more fragmentary； tend to cohere； and at the base of the cone form a pure calcareous deposit。
Without question； I was the first human being ever to wander over this 。 。 。 this iceberg： its sides were remarkably steep； no Arab could have climbed them； and no European had as yet ventured into this wild region。
I was thrilled by the virginity of a soil which no step of man or beast had sullied。 I lingered there； startled by this silence that never had been broken。 The first star began to shine； and I said to myself that this pure surface had lain here thousands of years in sight only of the stars。
But suddenly my musings on this white sheet and these shining stars were endowed with a singular significance。 I had kicked against a hard； black stone； the size of a man's fist； a sort of moulded rock of lava incredibly present on the surface of a bed of shells a thousand feet deep。 A sheet spread beneath an apple…tree can receive only apples； a sheet spread beneath the stars can receive only star…dust。 Never had a stone fallen from the skies made known its origin so unmistakably。
And very naturally； raising my eyes； I said to myself that from the height of this celestial apple…tree there must have dropped other fruits； and that I should find them exactly where they fell； since never from the beginning of time had anything been present to displace them。
Excited by my adventure； I picked up one and then a second and then a third of these stones； finding them at about the rate of one stone to the acre。 And here is where my adventure became magical； for in a striking foreshortening of time that embraced thousands of years； I had bee the witness of this miserly rain from the stars。 The marvel of marvels was that there on the rounded back of the planet； between this magnetic sheet and those stars； a human consciousness was present in which as in a mirror that rain could be reflected。
III
Once； in this same mineral Sahara； I was taught that a dream might partake of the miraculous。 Again I had been forced down； and until day dawned I was helpless。 Hillocks of sand offered up their luminous slopes to the moon； and blocks of shadow rose to share the sands with the light。 Over the deserted work…yard of darkness and moonray there reigned a peace as of work suspended and a silence like a trap； in which I fell asleep。
When I opened my eyes I saw nothing but the pool of nocturnal sky； for I was lying on my back with outstretched arms； face to face with that hatchery of stars。 Only half awake； still unaware that those depths were sky； having no roof between those depths and me； no branches to screen them； no root to cling to； I was s