The Pizigani map of 1367[306] (Fig. 2) modifies many names. Daculi becomes Insuldacr in one word; but its place remains nearly as in Dalorto’s map, though most of the other islands are drawn closer to Ireland, so that Bra is nearly stranded thereon. A line of inscription seems to relate to Bra--“Ich sont ysula qu--[possibly pronominal abbreviation] abitabi honõ quõ morit may.” Perhaps some of these words should be read differently, and “abitabi” needs some recasting. I will not attempt to interpret but should infer that Bra had its troubles. They do not seem to have extended to Daculi. Pareto’s fine map of 1455[307] (Fig. 21) applies the following more extended and significant legend to Daculi: “Item est altera insulla nomine Bra in qua femine que in insulla ipsa habitant non pariuntur sed quando est eorum tempus pariendi feruntur foras insulla et ibi pariuntur secundum tempus.” From this we may gather that the outer island Daculi was believed to afford especial aid in childbearing to women carried thither after being baffled on the inner island Bra, and we see readily the appositeness of the name “cradle” applied to the former. Beccario’s map of 1435[308] (Fig. 20), though without the legend, had already adopted in “Insulla da Culli” almost exactly the form of the name which we have divined, with apparently that meaning. St. Kilda seems to me the most plausible original for Daculi that has been suggested. It is true that Barra is actually south of the parallel of latitude of that most lonely western sentinel of the Hebrides, and there is no obvious link of relation between them. Also the rock islet of North Barra is about as far above it, equally unconnected and not likely ever to have maintained much population. But so simple a misunderstanding on the part of the old cartographers would be no more than what happened to them all the time, and exact identity of latitude is unimportant. There is, in fact, no land on the site given Daculi in any of these old maps; and Bra, as noted, is absurdly out of place for Barra. How the tradition grew up we do not know. Perhaps it was some tale picked up by coasting Italian traders, partly misunderstood and passed on by them to the map-makers at home. St. Kilda, lost in the mists and mystery of the Atlantic, of holy name and miracle-working associations, and out of touch with most tests of reality, seems a likely place to be linked to some less abnormal island by a fanciful contribution of saintly white magic, a rumor originating nobody knows how. GROCLAND, HELLULAND, ETC.