did not prosper in the desert； these memories it dismissed as belonging to the domain of legend。 No doubt there did gleam in distant places scattered round the world … places to which we should return once our work was done … there did gleam lighted windows。 No doubt somewhere there did sit young girls among their white lemurs or their books； patiently corn…pounding souls as rich in delight as secret gardens。 No doubt there did exist such creatures waxing in beauty。 But solitude cultivates a strange mood。
I know that mood。 Three years of the desert taught it to me。 Something in one's heart takes fright； not at the thought of growing old； not at feeling one's youth used up in this mineral universe； but at the thought that far away the whole world is ageing。 The trees have brought forth their fruit； the grain has ripened in the fields； the women have bloomed in their loveliness。 But the season is advancing and one must make haste； but the season is advancing and still one cannot leave； but the season is advancing 。 。 。 and other men will glean the harvest。
Many a night have I savored this taste of the irreparable； wandering in a circle round the fort； our prison； under the burden of the trade…winds。 Sometimes； worn out by a day of flight； drenched in the humidity of the tropical climate； I have felt my heart beat in me like the wheels of an express train； and suddenly； more immediately than when flying； I have felt myself on a journey。 A journey through time。 Time was running through my fingers like the fine sand of the dunes ； the poundings of my heart were bearing me onward towards an unknown future。
Ah； those fevers at night after a day of work in the silence！ We seemed to ourselves to be burning up； like flares set out in the solitude。 And yet we knew joys we could not possibly have known elsewhere。 I shall never be able to express clearly whence es this pleasure men take from aridity； but always and everywhere I have seen men attach themselves more stubbornly to barren lands than to any other。 Men will die for a calcined； leafless； stony mountain。 The nomads will defend to the death their great store of sand as if it were a treasure of gold dust。
And we； my rades and I； we too have loved the desert to the point of feeling that it was there we had lived the best years of our lives。 I shall describe for you our stations （Port Etienne； Villa Cisneros； Cape Juby； were some of their names） and shall narrate for you a few of our days。
I
I succumbed to the desert as soon as I saw it； and I saw it almost as soon as I had won my wings。 As early as the year 1926 I was transferred out of Europe to the Dakar…Juby division； where the Sahara meets the Atlantic and where； only recently； the Arabs had murdered two of our pilots； Erable and Gourp。 In those days our planes frequently fell apart in mid…air； and because of this the African divisions were always flown by two ships； one without the mails trailing and convoying the other； prepared to take over the sacks in the event the mail plane broke down。
Under orders； I flew an empty ship down to Agadir。 From Agadir I was flown to Dakar as a passenger； and it was on that flight that the vast sandy void and the mystery with which my imagination could not but endow it first thrilled me。 But the heat was so intense that despite my excitement I dozed off soon after we left Port Etienne。 Riguelle； who was flying me down； moved out to sea a couple of miles in order to get away from the sizzling surface of sand。 I woke up； saw in the distance the thin white line of the coast； and said to myself fearfully that if anything went wrong we should surely drown。 Then I dozed off again。
I was startled out of my sleep by a crash； a sudden silence； and then the voice of Riguelle saying； 〃Damn！ There goes a connecting rod！〃 As I half rose out of my seat to send a regretful look at that white coast…line； now more precious than ever； he shouted to me angrily to stay as I was。 I knew Riguelle had been wrong to go out to sea； I had been on the point of mentioning it； and now I felt a plete and savage satisfaction in our predicament。 〃This；〃 I said to myself； 〃will teach him a lesson。〃
But this gratifying sense of superiority could obviously not last very long。 Riguelle sent the plane earthward in a long diagonal line that brought us within sixty feet of the sand … an altitude at which there was no question of picking out a landing…place。 We lost both wheels against one sand…dune； a wing against another； and crashed with a sudden jerk into a third。
〃You hurt？〃 Riguelle called out。
〃Not a bit；〃 I said。
〃That's what I call piloting a ship！〃 he boasted cheerfully。
I who was busy on all fours extricating myself from what had once been a ship； was in no mood to feed his pride。
〃Guillaumet will be along in a minute to pick us up；〃 he added。
Guillaumet was flying our convoy； and very shortly we saw him e down on a stretch of smooth sand a few hundred yards away。 He asked if we were all right； was told no damage had been done； and then proposed briskly that we give him a hand with the sacks。 The mail transferred out of the wrecked plane； they explained to me that in this soft sand it would not be possible to lift Guillaumet's plane clear if I was in it。 They would hop to the next outpost； drop the mail there； and e back for me。
Now this was my first day in Africa。 I was so ignorant that I could not tell a zone of danger from a zone of safety； I mean by that； a zone where the tribes had submitted peacefully to European rule from a zone where the tribes were still in rebellion。 The region in which we had landed happened to be considered safe； but I did not know that。
〃You've got a gun； of course；〃 Riguelle said。
I had no gun and said so。
〃My dear chap； you'll have to have a gun；〃 he said； and very kindly he gave me his。 〃And you'll want these extra clips of cartridges；〃 he went on。 〃Just bear in mind that you shoot at anything and everything you see。〃
They had started to walk across to the other plane when Guillaumet； as if driven by his conscience； came back and handed me his cartridge clips； too。 And with this they took off。 Title： Wind； Sand； and Stars
Author： Antoine de Saint…Exupery
Translator： Lewis Galantiere
Publisher： Harcourt Brace Javanovich； New York； 1967
Date first posted： February 2000
Date most recently updated： January 2006
XML markup by Wesman 02/23/2000。
Wind Sand and Stars
Antoine de Saint…Exupery
8
Prisoner of the Sand
After three years of life in the desert； I was transferred out。 The fortunes of the air service sent me wandering here and there until one day I decided to attempt a long…distance flight from Paris to Saigon。 When； on December 29； 1935； I took off； I had no notion that the sands were preparing for me their ultimate and culminating ordeal。
This is the story of the Paris…Saigon flight。
I paid my final visit to the weather bureau； where I found Monsieur Viaud stooped over his maps like a medieval alchemist over an alembic。 Lucas had e with me； and we stared together at the curving lines marking the new…sprung winds。 With their tiny flying arrows； they put me in mind of curving tendrils studded with thorns。 All the atmospheric depressions of the world were charted on this enormous map； ochre…colored； like the earth of Asia。
〃Here is a storm that we'll not hear from before Monday；〃 Monsieur Viaud pointed out。
Over Russia and the Scandinavian peninsula the swirling lines took the form of a coiled demon。 Out in Iraq； in the neighborhood of Basra； an imp was whirling。
〃That fellow worries me a little；〃 said Monsieur Viaud。
〃Sand…storm； is it？〃
I was not being idly curious。 Day would not yet be breaking when I reached Basra and I was fearful of flying at night in one of those desert storms that turn the sky into a yellow furnace and wipe out hills； towns； and river…banks； drowning earth and sky in one great conflagration。 It would be bad enough to fly in daylight through a chaos in which the very elements themselves were indistinguishable。
〃Sand…storm？ No； not exactly。〃
〃So much the better；〃 I said to myself； and I looked round the room。 I liked this laboratory atmosphere。 Viaud； I felt； was a man escaped from the world。 When he came in here and hung up his hat and coat on the peg； he hung up with them all the confusion in which the rest of mankind lived。 Family cares； thoughts of ine； concerns of the heart … all that vanished on the threshold of this room as at the door of a hermit's cell； or an astronomer's tower； or a radio operator's shack。 Here was one of those men who are able to lock themselves up in the secrecy of their retreat and hold discourse with the universe。
Gently； for he was reflecting； Monsieur Viaud rubbed the palms of his hands together。
〃No； not a sand…storm。 See here。〃
His finger traveled over the map and pointed out why。
At four in the morning Lucas shook me into consciousness。
〃Wake up！〃
And before I could so much as rub my eyes he was saying； 〃Look here； at this report。 Look at the moon。 You won't see much of her tonight。 She's new； not very bright； and she'll set at ten o'clock； And here's something else for you： sun…rise in Greenwich Meridian Time and in local time as well。 And here： here are your maps； with your course all marked out。 And here …〃
〃… is your bag packed for Saigon；〃 my wife broke in。
A razor and a change of shirt。 He who would travel happily must travel light。
We got into a car and motored out to Le Bourget while Fate spying in ambush put the finishing touches to her plans。 Those favorable winds that were to wheel in the heavens； that moon that was to sink at ten o'clock； were so many strategic positions at which Fate was assembling her forces。 。
It was cold at the airport； and dark。 The Simoon was wheeled out of her hangar。 I walked round my ship； stroking her wings with the back of my hand in a caress that I believe was love。 Eight thousand miles I had flown in her； and her engines had not skipped a beat； not a bolt in her had loosened。 This was the marvel that was to save our lives the next night by refusing to be ground to powder on meeting the upsurging earth。
Friends had turned up。 Every long flight starts in the same atmosphere； and nobody who has experienced it once would ever have it otherwise： the wind； the drizzle at daybreak； the engines purring quietly as they are warmed up； this instrument of conquest gleaming in her fresh coat of 〃dope'' … all of it goes straight to the heart。
Already one has a foretaste of the treasures about to be garnered on the way … the green and brown and yellow lands promised by the maps； the rosary of resounding names that make up the pilot's beads ； the hours to be picked up one by one on the eastward flight into the sun。
There is a particular flavor about the tiny cabin in which； still only half awake； you stow away your thermos flasks and odd parts and over…night bag； in the fuel tanks heavy with power； and best of all； forward； in the magical instruments set like jewels in their panel and glimmering like a constellation in