We slept that night under the overhanging rock just to one side of the cave, not in the mouth, because of the draught which drew in and out of the great place.In that soft and balmy clime this was no hardship, although we lacked blankets.And yet, tired though I was, I could not rest as I should have done.Bastin snored away contentedly, quite unaffected by his escape which to him was merely an incident in the day's work; and so, too, slumbered Bickley, except that he did not snore.But the amazement and the mystery of all that we had discovered and of all that might be left for us to discover, held me back from sleep.
What did it mean? What could it mean? My nerves were taut as harp strings and seemed to vibrate to the touch of invisible fingers, although I could not interpret the music that they made.
Once or twice also I thought I heard actual music with my physical ears, and that of a strange quality.Soft and low and dreamful, it appeared to well from the recesses of the vast cave, a wailing song in an unknown tongue from the lips of women, or of a woman, multiplied mysteriously by echoes.This, however, must have been pure fancy, since there was no singer there.
Presently I dozed off, to be awakened by the sudden sound of a great fish leaping in the lake.I sat up and stared, fearing lest it might be the splash of a paddle, for I could not put from my mind the possibility of attack.All I saw, however, was the low line of the distant shore, and above it the bright and setting stars that heralded the coming of the sun.Then I woke the others, and we washed and ate, since once the sun rose time would be precious.
At length it appeared, splendid in a cloudless sky, and, as Ihad hoped, directly opposite to the mouth of the cave.Taking our candles and some stout pieces of driftwood which, with our knives, we had shaped on the previous evening to serve us as levers and rough shovels, we entered the cave.Bickley and I were filled with excitement and hope of what we knew not, but Bastin showed little enthusiasm for our quest.His heart was with his half-converted savages beyond the lake, and of them, quite rightly I have no doubt, he thought more than he did of all the archaeological treasures in the whole earth.Still, he came, bearing the blackened head of Oro with him which, with unconscious humour, he had used as a pillow through the night because, as he said, "it was after all softer than stone." Also, I believe that in his heart he hoped that he might find an opportunity of destroying the bigger and earlier edition of Oro in the cave, before it was discovered by the natives who might wish to make it an object of worship.Tommy came also, with greater alacrity than I expected, since dogs do not as a rule like dark places.When we reached the statue I learned the reason; he remembered the smell he had detected at its base on the previous day, which Bastin supposed to proceed from a rat, and was anxious to continue his investigations.
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.
