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.