Bude and Logan followed him through a scene of melancholy interest. Beside the mast, within a shattered palisade, lay huddled the vast corpse of the Mylodon of Patagonia, couchant amidst his fodder of chopped hay. The expression of the huge animal was placid and urbane in death. He was the victim of the ceaseless curiosity of science. Two of the five-horned antelope giraffes of Central Africa lay in a confused heap of horns and hoofs. Beside an immense tank couched a figure in evening dress, swearing in a subdued tone. Logan recognised Professor Potter. He gently laid his hand on the Professor's shoulder. The Scottish savant looked up: 'It is a dommed mismanaged affair,' he said. 'I could have brought the poor beast safe enough from the Clyde to New York, but the Americans made me harl him round by yon island of camstairy deevils,' and he shook his fist in the direction of Cagayan Sulu. 'What had you got?' asked Logan. 'The _Beathach na Loch na bheiste_,' said Potter. 'I drained the Loch to get him. Fortunately,' he added, 'it was at the expense of the Trust.' After a few words of commonplace but heartfelt condolence, Logan descended the companion, and followed Bude and Captain Funkal into the cabin of that officer. The captain placed refreshments on the table. 'Now, gentlemen,' he said, 'you have seen the least riled of my professors, and you can guess what the rest are like. Professor Rustler is weeping in his cabin over a shrivelled old mummy. "Never will he speak again," says he, and I am bound to say that I _hev_ heard the critter discourse once. The mummy let some awful yells out of him when the fire-bugs came aboard.' 'Yes, we heard a human cry,' said Bude. 'I had thought the talk was managed with a concealed gramophone,' said the captain, 'but it wasn't. The Bunyip from Central Australia has gone to his long home. That was Professor Wilkinson's pet. There is nothing left alive out of the lot but the natives that Professor Jenkins of England brought in irons from Cagayan Sulu. I reckon them two niggers are somehow at the bottom of the whole ruction.' 'Indeed, and why?' asked Bude. 'Why, sir--I am addressing Professor Jones Harvey?' Bude bowed. 'Harvey, captain, but not professor--simple amateur seaman and explorer.' 'Sir, your hand,' said the captain. 'Your friend is not a professor?' 'Not I,' said Logan, smiling.