probably seen it in that neighborhood, that is all, most likely.
It is quite possible we shall be the first white men to land
there. But I daresay we shall have some difficulty in finding it
first."

How like a dream it all sounded! The two of us sitting there at
the big study-table; the candles lit; the smoke curling towards
the dim ceiling from the Doctor's pipe--the two of us sitting
there, talking about finding an island in the ocean and being the
first white men to land upon it!

"I'll bet it will be a great voyage," I said. "It looks a lovely
island on the map. Will there be black men there?"

"No. A peculiar tribe of Red Indians lives on it, Miranda tells
me."

At this point the poor Bird-of-Paradise stirred and woke up. In
our excitement we had forgotten to speak low.

"We are going to Spidermonkey Island, Miranda," said the Doctor.
"You know where it is, do you not?"

"I know where it was the last time I saw it," said the bird. "But
whether it will be there still, I can't say."

"What do you mean?" asked the Doctor. "It is always in the same
place surely?"

"Not by any means," said Miranda. "Why, didn't you