We went straight to the statue, although Bickley passed the half-buried machines with evident regret.  As we had hoped, the strong light of the rising sun fell upon it in a vivid ray, revealing all its wondrous workmanship and the majesty—­for no other word describes it—­of the somewhat terrifying countenance that appeared above the wrappings of the shroud.  Indeed, I was convinced that originally this monument had been placed here in order that on certain days of the year the sun might fall upon it thus, when probably worshippers assembled to adore their hallowed symbol.  After all, this was common in ancient days:  witness the instance of the awful Three who sit in the deepest recesses of the temple of Abu Simbel, on the Nile.

We gazed and gazed our fill, at least Bickley and I did, for Bastin was occupied in making a careful comparison between the head of his wooden Oro and that of the statue.

“There is no doubt that they are very much alike,” he said.  “Why, whatever is that dog doing?  I think it is going mad,” and he pointed to Tommy who was digging furiously at the base of the lowest step, as at home I have seen him do at roots that sheltered a rabbit.

Tommy’s energy was so remarkable that at length it seriously attracted our attention.  Evidently he meant that it should do so, for occasionally he sprang back to me barking, then returned and sniffed and scratched.  Bickley knelt down and smelt at the stone.

“It is an odd thing, Humphrey,” he said, “but there is a strange odour here, a very pleasant odour like that of sandal-wood or attar of roses.”

“I never heard of a rat that smelt like sandal-wood or attar of roses,” said Bastin.  “Look out that it isn’t a snake.”

I knelt down beside Bickley, and in clearing away the deep dust from what seemed to be the bottom of the step, which was perhaps four feet in height, by accident thrust my amateur spade somewhat strongly against its base where it rested upon the rocky floor.

Next moment a wonder came to pass.  The whole massive rock began to turn outwards as though upon a pivot!  I saw it coming and grabbed Bickley by the collar, dragging him back so that we just rolled clear before the great block, which must have weighed several tons, fell down and crushed us.  Tommy saw it too, and fled, though a little late, for the edge of the block caught the tip of his tail and caused him to emit a most piercing howl.  But we did not think of Tommy and his woes; we did not think of our own escape or of anything else because of the marvel that appeared to us.  Seated there upon the ground, after our backward tumble, we could see into the space which lay behind the fallen step, for there the light of the sun penetrated.

The first idea it gave me was that of the jewelled shrine of some mediaeval saint which, by good fortune, had escaped the plunderers; there are still such existing in the world.  It shone and glittered, apparently with gold and diamonds, although, as a matter of fact, there were no diamonds, nor was it gold which gleamed, but some ancient metal, or rather amalgam, which is now lost to the world, the same that was used in the tubes of the air-machines.  I think that it contained gold, but I do not know.  At any rate, it was equally lasting and even more beautiful, though lighter in colour.