stood as though spellbound. With much astonishment we observed that apparently it had become motionless above us, and we distinctly heard a humming sound with rising and falling inflections which we supposed were vocal notes, but later we learned that the sounds were occasioned by the rapid vibrations of a peculiar wing attachment. For a short time the creature remained intently regarding us, then swiftly, in ever widening circles, it rose to a great height and again flew westward. With the enthusiasm of one whose bent of mind mainly is in one direction I at once resolved to search for the habitat of our strange visitor. Of the islands of Indolois[a:]'s waters and of its boundaries southward and northward we possessed accurate knowledge. With its immediate western shore lands we also were acquainted, but of the desert extending far westward we knew comparatively little. After counselling together we decided to proceed northward until we should reach an irrigated region, where we would rest, supply ourselves with food and possibly with some information relating to our strange visitor. Four days' travel brought us to the northern limit of the desert and to a pastoral people inhabiting the irrigated productive lands extending along its arid border. From them we learned that only very recently had any one beheld the great birds, whose lofty flight precluded more than an indistinct view of them. That it was thought that they made their home near Lois[a:] Rûmēs[a:] (Rûmēs[a:], a goddess), which with burthen bearing animals we might reach in about six days. That Lois[a:] Rûmēs[a:] was a body of fresh water we knew and that its northern shore was waste and uninhabited we also knew, so, with some misgiving, but with determination to succeed in our quest we left our hospitable entertainers and travelled westward along the northern limit of the desert, gathering such information as might serve our purpose of a coming time. So impatient were we to reach Lois[a:] Rûmēs[a:] that we travelled early and late and the afternoon of the sixth day brought us to its northern shore, where its sparkling waters sharply indent the sandy waste. It is a matter of regret to your friends, and I doubt not to yourself, that an attempt to impress upon your memory anything of a technical nature immediately arouses your cautiousness and renders you so positive as to be unreceptive. No, I shall not vex you by attempting to urge you to give the latitude and longitude of localities. Gentola--Do not, please, for I so fear mistakes that I cannot risk making them. I do indeed regret that I possess such an inconvenient mental trait, for I have found it so much in my own way that I do not find fault with my Spirit friends for objecting to it. George--Never mind, Gentol[a:], we are glad enough to take you as you are and thankful that you are no more objectionable.