unnaturally dense. The eyes of all were closed and the eyelashes formed
a thick, projecting brush. But despite the abnormal treatment of the
hairy parts, these little heads had the most astonishingly realistic
appearance and were, as I have said, excessively weird and rather
dreadful in aspect. And, in spite of the closed eyes and set features,
each had an expression and character of its own; each, in fact, seemed
to be a faithful and spirited portrait of a definite individual. They
were upwards of twenty in number, all male and all represented persons
of the European type. Each reposed in a little velvet-lined compartment
and each was distinguished by a label bearing a number and a date.

I looked up at Challoner and found him regarding me with an inscrutable
and hideous smile.

"These are very extraordinary productions, Challoner," said I. "What are
they? And what are they made of?"

"Made of, my dear fellow?" said he. "Why, the same as you and I are made
of, to be sure."

"Do you mean to say," I exclaimed, "that these little heads are made of
human skin?"

"Undoubtedly. Human skin and human hair. What else did you think?"

I looked at him with a puzzled frown and finally said that I did not
understand what he meant.


"Have you never heard of the Mundurucú Indians?" he asked.