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 know?—Spidermonkey Island is a floating island. It moves around all over the place—usually somewhere near southern South America. But of course I could surely find it for you if you want to go there."
At this fresh piece of news I could contain myself no longer. I was bursting to tell some one. I ran dancing and singing from the room to find Chee-Chee.
At the door I tripped over Dab-Dab, who was just coming in with her wings full of plates, and fell headlong on my nose.
