It's a long way from the coast of California to the South Seas, but many ocean liners travel that route with no more excitement than a trolley car ride. And almost directly in the path of these steamers lies a strange hidden island, the magic island of the South Seas. The Gregory Yacht has sailed to this island in search of Mrs. Gregory's long-lost little daughter. Now the yacht is held fast to the island by a powerful magnetic force. Jerry, Captain Bradford, and Mrs. Gregory leave the yacht. They stumble blindly through the weird yellow half-light that covers everything. Suddenly, some unseen person or phantom thing thrusts a pair of glasses into the hands of each. Oh, Tex, Jerry, look. They're all around us. And we haven't heard the slightest sound. I felt better when I couldn't see them. Speak to them, Tex. Say something to them. They aren't making any move to harm us. I'll go near them. You and Jerry stay. Well, I can't move. I'm scared too, but I can move anyway. I'll show you and... Gee, I can't even move my arms. It's almost as if we were rooted to this spot. Gosh, why don't they move or say something? Speak to them, Tex. Get them to move. This will drive us mad. Steady, Patricia. These men are not savages. They're strangely dressed, but they look civilized and intelligent. But why can't we move? I know why, but I don't know how it's being done. I have a gun in my pocket. I can feel it being drawn downward. Sure, that's it. Magnetism again. That's why my flashlight feels like it weighs a ton in my pocket. Oh, my head. Something's pulling at my hair. Oh, cross the metal hairpin. What's holding our hands and feet so still? I think we'll find out a lot in a minute. One of those men are coming towards us now. Yeah. His legs are moving all right. He's walking pretty fast. Say, why doesn't he get any closer to us? This yellow light is deceptive. Probably an illusion deliberately created to throw our sense of perspective out of balance. But they don't speak English. Let me do the talking if we get a chance to do anything. Hello there. How do you do? I guess they don't speak anything. We'll soon find out. Well, if I could move my arms, I could shake hands with this gentleman. I think that will not be necessary. In fact, it would not be advisable. Golly, whiskers, he can talk. It's a relief to hear English spoken in this strange place. This strange place, Madame is mistaken. This is a perfectly natural place. You three are the strange elements here. Well, I guess you're right at that. We seem to have intruded upon something that's a little bit beyond our depth. What's it all about, Professor? Now, do not apply to me the title you confer upon your petty educators in what you so grandly choose to call your world. World indeed. Why, you poor innocents cannot even dream of the world, as it is given to us to know it. Now, I will introduce myself. I am called G-47. Gee whiz. No, G-47. Is this real text? It is, but no one back home will believe us. May I ask a question of you, G-47? At least, Madame Gregory, you... He knows me. Silence, Madame, or I shall think you as rude as your strange companions. I'm sorry, but I was so surprised that you should know me. I think we're going to be more surprised if we can find something this guy don't know. You are a very observant person, for one so young. Well, before we go on with this, this display of our ignorance and your confounded superiority, you might at least call off your magnetic force. It would be more comfortable if we could walk around a little. I am disappointed in you, Captain Bradford. Oh, you win, G-47. Suppose we could have moved long ago if we'd had sense enough to try it. You were released the moment I spoke to you. Now, if you are through gaping and wondering, I will be glad to answer Madame Gregory's question. The object of your search is here. Then the old sailor's story was true. There is a little white girl living here. Gee, and can we see her right away? Yes, let's get it over with, or do we just stand here all night? Your rudeness will be overlooked this time, Captain Bradford. You will follow me. Come. Well, I guess nobody who saw this would ever make fun of my magic island again. You will see no magic here. This is a land of fact. Cold, hard, scientific fact. What you say is obviously true, but we've been accustomed to getting our facts in a little less spectacular manner. Everything here is real enough, but it's all so strange to us. Notice how all these other men merely stand aside and let us pass. They don't look curious, happy, angry. They just don't look anything. Guess they don't think we're getting excited about. On the contrary, you are rather interesting subjects. It will be a pleasure to study you at greater length. When time permits. Well, it isn't the most comfortable feeling in the world to be spoken of as a subject for study, as if we were bugs on a microscopic slide. But remember, Pat, as long as we're being studied, we'll be alive, and while... And while you're alive, there is always the possibility of your escape, eh? That can wait. Please, G-47, may we see the little girl? We are nearly to the ladies' quarters now. I imagine the ladies of your colony are kept rather well protected in the event your island might be surprised and perhaps captured, eh, G-47? Do not be unnecessarily stupid. We fear nothing. I've got an idea he means that. May we inquire where the ladies of your... your colony may be found? I see none of them. This is the 600-second period when the ladies are engaged in caring for their living quarters, making their dresses for tomorrow. You mean 600 seconds as we figure time in our world? Precisely. But, golly, whiskers, 600 seconds. That's only 10 minutes. You mean the ladies make their own dresses in 10 minutes? And attend to caring for their living quarters in the same time? Five minutes to make a dress, Pat. It is a waste of valuable time, I admit, but we haven't been able to solve the problem of making a satisfactory garment in less than 300 seconds. Good heavens, five minutes to make a dress, and the man calls it a waste of time. I said 300 seconds, not five minutes. We have no time to deal in minutes here. Time is too precious. We measure it in seconds. I'll bet these guys could put up the Empire State Building at lunch hour. Boy, oh boy. And the ladies make a new dress for every day? Precisely. You will see all that being done and more before you leave the Isle of Euclidia. So that's it, Euclidia. You named your scientific island for Euclid, the father of geometry. You are learning, Captain Bradford. I am called G-47. It's the highest authority in Euclidia on the subject of mathematics. G for geometry, 47 for the squaring of the circle, the 47th problem of Euclid. G-47. And do all the other men on the island have names like yours? No, they are all different from mine. I mean, are they, do they mean something like yours does? Everything on this island means something. The names are similar to mine. But enough of this childish prattle. Directly before you, you will notice a small gleaming copper door. You are expected. Enter. I will return for you when the time limit of your visit is reached. Well, if we ever wake up at all, this is going to be a dream, hard to forget. This is no dream. It's the real thing, a magic island. Oh, I'm so nervous. Do you think we'll really see my little girl after all this? Well, she proved to be my little girl, my little daughter Joan. Well, let's knock on this door and find out. Gee, the door opened without a sound before I touched it. Are we supposed to walk right in? You may enter. Did you hear that? A young girl's voice. Let's go in. What a small room. Oh, are you... How do you do? Will you not sit down? Allow me, Mrs. Gregory. You there, Captain Bradford. And you here, Gerald. Hmm, Gerald. Oh, Tex, I... Steady, Patricia. Now take it as calmly as you can. Jerry and I will just sit quietly in the background. As far back as we can go back in this little cubby hole. You go ahead and talk to her. Find out if... if... Good luck, dear. Do you mind if I question you? Not at all. We of Euclidia encourage conversation when the subject is of value and takes little time. Remember, we are allowed but 120 seconds for this visit. Gee, Tex, who ever heard of a 15-year-old girl talking like that? Ask Jerry. Let's don't use up any of Mrs. Gregory's 120 seconds. Your name... what are you called, my dear? I am called Cleostre. Each one on Euclidia has a namesake in science. Cleostratus was an astronomer of ancient Greece who arranged the signs of the zodiac. I came to this island on the day the Euclideans changed the calendar from your clumsy one of 12 months of different lengths to our perfect one of 13 months. Hence, I was called Cleostre in honor of that day. Golly, Whiskers, that girl was more than my school teacher. Oh, that's Jerry. Tell me, my... Cleostre, do you know how you came to this island to Euclidia? Why, of course. I was cast upon the island after a shipwreck near here. I was tied to a sinking lifeboat. Yes, yes, that would be right. The lifeboat was sinking. All the men left it and tried to swim to safety so that you and I would have a better chance to live. I remember tying you to the boat, and then I could remember nothing else. You remember? You tied me to that boat? Yes, that's the last thing I remember. That was 14 years ago. You... you should be 15 now. The keeper of the records tells me I am just 15. But you spoke of fastening me to the lifeboat. You, who are you? I am your mother. I am Mrs. Patricia Gregory. I know all that, but you are someone else also. There is something I cannot explain it. My feeling is strange to me, but the Euclideans have kept so much news of the world from me. I suppose we are very happy here, yet I have often wished to know something of the world, your world. Now you've brought that to me. Will you turn your head? May I touch you, my child? Certainly. Oh, you feel so strange. So warm and friendly. Your hands... no one's hands ever felt like that to me before. I knew your hair would be golden and curly and I'm afraid to look. It would be a tiny star-shaped scar at the base of your neck. Oh, it's here. It takes Jerry the scar. It's Joan, my baby. My little daughter Joan. My little girl. No.
