nds blowing westward were soft and
steady, and they were making excellent time.

Grandpa frisked about, perching on this object and that, and
occasionally running back into some secret nook where he had hidden his
supply of nuts. With one of these in his paw he would jump up on
something, crack it in his powerful small jaws, and look very wise and
serious as he picked out the meats with his slim fingers.

Finally the monkey had his fill, and hopped up into Tom's lap. He
began to play with Tom's hair, smoothing it down pretty soon with the
flyer's comb, which he discovered in a pocket. So handy was Grandpa
with this utensil that the others went into peals of laughter. Tiring
of this, the monkey's eye caught sight of several freckles upon the
back of Tom's hand. He tried in vain to pick the freckles off; then he
became excited, for he could not understand why they would not lift up.
He chattered scoldingly at everybody; then tried again. Failing, he
sprang down and went to a far corner, in a fine sulk. Evidently he
thought Tom was playing a trick on him, and had glued the freckles down
someway just to tease him; for Tom, it must be admitted, was greatly
given to bothering Grandpa in some such manner.

Shortly before ten o'clock the following morning all hands were up to
take a look at their next stopping-off place--Nukahiva, the main island
of the Marquesas group, the place where they hoped to find a supply of
helium-gas awaiting them.

A fine island this--as fine a volcanic upheaval as one will find
anywhere. Sheer walls of cloud-capped rock 6,000 feet high, some
literally overhanging the crystal-clear water, and all embossed and
engraved with strangely patterned basalt. There are pillars,
battlements, and turrets; so that, with half-closed eyes, it seems you
are approaching a temple, a medieval castle, or a mosque of the East.
And the valleys--deep, choked with the most rampant growths of
luxuriant vegetation, in the heart of which silvery streams gurgle
their way tortuously along--fade away into mysterious purple mists.
Small wonder that this gorgeously beautiful island should have been the
home for a century of one of the finest races of primitive people the
world has ever known! Sad indeed is it that to-day the Marquesans are
rapidly dying off from consumption and fever introduced into their fair
domain by civilization itself.

Nestling in a good-sized valley near the harbor our flyers saw scores
of n