The morning dawned as only a perfect tropic morning can. The sea was as smooth as glass. Not a cloud was to be seen as a reminder of the elemental fury of the preceding night. The sun, as it rose, a huge red ball above the rim of the sea, showed them some things about their situation that were calculated to give them good cause for worry.

In the first place, it must be said that there was not a sign of the two boats to be seen. For anything that appeared of them, they might never have existed. Indeed, on that calm, serene dawn the fantastic events of the wild night that lay behind them did seem very much like the distorted experiences of a nightmare. But their haggard, anxious faces, and the pitiable condition of the Valkyrie, bore eloquent testimony to the fact that all that had passed was only too true.

As a matter of fact, the night’s incidents proved to be only minor matters for consideration in view of one greater fact that now confronted them. The Valkyrie lay with her bow well up amidst a tangled mass of low-growing jungle. Her stern, from just forward of midships, was almost under water. Even a casual inspection showed that if the sea should rise again it was not all unlikely that she might slide off into deep water and sink.

But the most astonishing thing about this land which they had struck was that they could see across it and to either of its limitations. It was, in fact, an island, stranded there out of sight of all other land. In shape it might have been likened to a splash of gravy on a plate, so irregular in form was it. As to dimensions, it was probably a quarter of a mile across, and perhaps twice that in length.

“This explains something that has been puzzling me,” exclaimed Mr. Chadwick, as they made this discovery. “It’s plain enough now that the crew knew there was no land to be expected in this part of the ocean, and when we struck they at once assumed that we had encountered some uncharted rock and so took to the boats.”

This explanation threw some light on the desertion of the yacht by means of the boats, for it had occurred to all of them that if the yacht had struck on the coast of the mainland there would not have been such a precipitate rush to leave her.

“My idea is to look in the pilot house and overhaul the charts,” said Captain Sprowl, after some discussion had ensued as to the best course to follow. “Our course must be marked till noon yesterday, anyhow, and we can find out about where we are.”

Whatever may have been Medway’s other faults, he could not have been called a slovenly navigator. The course of the yacht was plainly marked up till eight bells of the day preceding, and showed that they were then off the coast of Brazil. Captain Sprowl “overhauled” the pilot house some more, and at noon made an observation with a sextant he had unearthed. After making some calculations, the results of which were awaited with an eagerness that may be imagined, he announced that the position of the yacht was about one hundred and fifty miles from shore, and a little to the south of the mouth of the Amazon River.

“Himmel,” cried Professor Von Dinkelspeil, his frog-like eyes gleaming through a huge pair of horn-rimmed spectacles, “dey vos bringing us rightd vere I vanted to go!”

“Yes,” said Mr. Chadwick, “the professor’s destination was the Amazon River, but I must await his leave before telling you what his exact object was in coming to this part of the world.”

“Treasure, wasn’t it?” hazarded Dick Donovan.

“I’m afraid you have a reporter’s love of the picturesque,” smiled Mr. Chadwick. “Yet I suppose it was treasure of a kind; but not of the sort that the misguided crew imagined.”

“It’s this pesky island that puzzles me,” grunted Captain Sprowl, bending over the chart and knitting his brows. “There isn’t anything like it marked here, and this chart is based on the very latest survey made by the British cruiser, Charybdis.”

“Maybe it was too small to mark down,” suggested Jack.

“That shows all you know about navigation, m............