tiny patches of turquoise.

"The same old world, after all--the same, in spite of
everything--thank God!" he whispered, his very tone a prayer of
thanks.

And suddenly, though why he could not have told, the grim engineer's
eyes grew wet with tears that ran, unheeded, down his heavy-bearded
cheeks.



CHAPTER VIII

A SIGN OF PERIL


Stern's weakness--as he judged it--lasted but a minute. Then,
realizing even more fully than ever the necessity for immediate labor
and exploration, he tightened his grip upon the sledge and set forth
into the forest of Madison Square.

Away from him scurried a cotton-tail. A snake slid, hissing, out of
sight under a jungle of fern. A butterfly, dull brown and ocher,
settled upon a branch in the sunlight, where it began slowly opening
and shutting its wings.

"Hem! That's a _Danaus plexippus_, right enough," commented the man.
"But there are some odd changes in it. Yes, indeed, certainly some
evolutionary variants. Must be a tremendous time since we went to