e populace,
though it was corroborated by Captain Funkal, Professor Dodge, and
Professor Wilkinson, who swore affidavits before a notary, within the
hearing of the multitude. The Beathach, exhibited by Professor Potter,
was reckoned of high anatomical interest by scientific characters, but it
was not of American habitat, and left the people relatively cold. On the
other hand, all the Macleans and Macdonnells of Canada and Nova Scotia
wept tears of joy at the corroboration of their tribal legends, and the
popularity of Professor Potter rivalled even that of Mr. Ian Maclaren. He
was at once engaged by Major Pond for a series of lectures. The
adventures of Howard Fry, in the taking of his gorilla, were reckoned
interesting, as were those of the captor of the Bunyip, but both animals
were now undeniably dead. The people could not feed them with waffles
and hominy cakes in the gardens of the institute. The savants wrangled
on the anatomical differences and resemblances of the Bunyip and the
Beathach; still the critters were, to the general mind, only stuffed
specimens, though unique. The African five-horned brutes (though in
quieter times they would have scored a triumph) did not now appeal to the
heart of the people.

At last came the day when, in the huge crowded amphitheatre, with Te-iki-
pa by his side, Jones Harvey addressed the congregation. First he
exhibited a skeleton of a dinornis, a bird of about twenty-five feet in
height.

'Now,' he went on, 'thanks to the assistance of a Maori gentleman, my
friend the Tohunga Te-iki-pa'--(cheers, Te-iki bows his
acknowledgments)--'I propose to exhibit to you _this_.'

With a touch on the mechanism he unrolled the valves of a gigantic
incubator. Within, recumbent on cotton wool, the almost frenzied
spectators perceived two monstrous eggs, like those of the Roc of Arabian
fable. Te-iki-pa now chanted a brief psalm in his own language. One of
the eggs rolled gently in its place; then the other. A faint crackling
noise was heard, first from one, then from the other egg. From each
emerged the featherless head of a fowl--the species hitherto unknown to
the American continent. The necks pushed forth, then the shoulders, then
both shells rolled away in fragments, and the spectators gazed on two
fledgling Moas. Te-iki-pa, on inspection, pronounced them to be cock and
hen, and in healthy condition. The breed, he said, could doubtless be
acclimatised.

The professors