chief of these we called Mojo, after his tribe, and the
others are known as Jose and Fernando. Three white men, then, two
half-breeds, one negro, and three Indians made up the personnel of the
little expedition which lay waiting for its instructions at Manaos
before starting upon its singular quest.

At last, after a weary week, the day had come and the hour. I ask you
to picture the shaded sitting-room of the Fazenda St. Ignatio, two
miles inland from the town of Manaos. Outside lay the yellow, brassy
glare of the sunshine, with the shadows of the palm trees as black and
definite as the trees themselves. The air was calm, full of the
eternal hum of insects, a tropical chorus of many octaves, from the
deep drone of the bee to the high, keen pipe of the mosquito. Beyond
the veranda was a small cleared garden, bounded with cactus hedges and
adorned with clumps of flowering shrubs, round which the great blue
butterflies and the tiny humming-birds fluttered and darted in
crescents of sparkling light. Within we were seated round the cane
table, on which lay a sealed envelope. Inscribed upon it, in the
jagged handwriting of Professor Challenger, were the words:--

"Instructions to Lord John Roxton and party. To be opened at Manaos
upon July 15th, at 12 o'clock precisely."

Lord John had placed his watch upon the table beside him.

"We have seven more minutes," said he. "The old dear is very precise."

Professor Summerlee gave an acid smile as he picked up the envelope in
his gaunt hand.

"What can it possibly matter whether we open it now or in seven
minutes?" said he. "It is all part and parcel of the same system of
quackery and nonsense, for which I regret to say that the writer is
notorious."

"Oh, come, we must play the game accordin' to rules," said Lord John.
"It's old man Challenger's show and we are here by his good will, so it
would be rotten bad form if we didn't follow his instructions to the
letter."

"A pretty business it is!" cried the Professor, bitterly. "It struck
me as preposterous in London, but I'm bound to say that it seems even
more so upon closer acquaintance. I don't know what is inside this
envelope, but, unless it is something pretty definite, I shall be much
tempted to take the next down-river boat and catch the Bolivia at Para.
After all, I have some more responsible work in the world than to run
about disproving the assertions of a lunatic. Now, Roxton, surely it
is ti