s, west of the Kingsmills: it also
appears that we are very near the line, but a little south of it, for
the shadow inclines a little southward."

"It is all nonsense," cried Max, sitting up in the grass, "to pretend to
ascertain where we are, in any such way as this. If your watch, (which
you know is a miserable time-keeper), has lost or gained but twenty
minutes since we left the Kingsmills, which is now nearly two months,
then what becomes of your learned calculations about the difference of
time, and of the longitude, and all that?"

Arthur laughed, and admitted that this grave impeachment of the
character of his chronometer, was not entirely without foundation, and
that in consequence, the strict accuracy of the results arrived at,
could not be relied on.

"The only thing that we can be at all certain about in regard to our
position," said Max, "is, that we are south of the line."

"How can that be?" inquired Browne, "the Pole-star is visible from here,
or, at any rate, we saw it on the second or third night we were at sea
in the boat."

"A part of the Great Bear can be seen," answered Arthur, "but not the
north star, I think. I looked for it last night, and though I could see
all the stars of the Dipper, the pointers were near the horizon, and the
Pole-star below it. But even if visible, it would be no evidence that
we are north of the equator, for I believe it can be seen from the
fourth or fifth degree of south latitude."

"See now," said Browne, "what a pretty neighbourhood you are getting us
into, with your wise calculations! If we are south of the line, and far
west of the Kingsmills, we must be somewhere near the Bidera Sea, and
the Mendana Archipelago, about which the young sailor Roby, who was
always boasting of having sailed with the famous Captain Morell, used to
tell us such wonderful stories."

"It is good ground," replied Arthur, "for one who wants to exercise a
traveller's privilege, and recount marvels and prodigies, without fear
of contradiction. Those seas are full of large islands, with countless
numbers of smaller ones, and remain to this day almost unexplored. In
fact, little more is now ascertained in regard to them, than was known
two hundred and fifty years ago, soon after their discovery by the
Spanish navigator Mendana; so that a man who pretends, as Roby does, to
have gone over the ground himself, may tell pretty much what stories he
pleases, without danger of any one being