end. Now all around us was a flat floor of rock which, as we
perceived clearly when we pushed aside the dust that had gathered

thickly on it in the course of ages, doubtless from the gradual
disintegration of the stony walls, had once been polished till it

resembled black marble. Indeed, certain cracks in the floor
appeared to have been filled in with some dark-coloured cement. I

stood looking at them while Bickley wandered off to the right and
a little forward, and presently called to me. I walked to him,

Bastin sticking close to me as I had the other candle, as did the
little dog, Tommy, who did not like these new surroundings and

would not leave my heels.
"Look," said Bickley, holding up his candle, "and tell me--

what's that?"
Before me, faintly shown, was some curious structure of

gleaming rods made of yellowish metal, which rods appeared to be
connected by wires. The structure might have been forty feet high

and perhaps a hundred long. Its bottom part was buried in dust.
"What is that?" asked Bickley again.

I made no answer, for I was thinking. Bastin, however, replied:
"It's difficult to be sure in this light, but I should think

that it may be the remains of a cage in which some people who
lived here kept monkeys, or perhaps it was an aviary. Look at

those little ladders for the monkeys to climb by, or possibly for
the birds to sit on."

"Are you sure it wasn't tame angels?" asked Bickley.
"What a ridiculous remark! How can you keep an angel in a cage?

I--"
"Aeroplane!" I almost whispered to Bickley.

"You've got it!" he answered. "The framework of an aeroplane
and a jolly large one, too. Only why hasn't it oxidised?"

"Some indestructible metal," I suggested. "Gold, for instance,
does not oxidise."

He nodded and said:
"We shall have to dig it out. The dust is feet thick about it;

we can do nothing without spades. Come on."
We went round to the end of the structure, whatever it might

be, and presently came to another. Again we went on and came to
another, all of them being berthed exactly in line.

"What did I tell you?" said Bickley in a voice of triumph. "A
whole garage full, a regular fleet of aeroplanes!"

"That must be nonsense," said Bastin, "for I am quite sure that
these Orofenans cannot make such things. Indeed they have no

metal, and even cut the throats of pigs with wooden knives."
Now I began to walk forward, bearing to the left so as to

regain our former line. We could do nothing with these metal
skeletons, and I felt that there must be more to find beyond.

Presently I saw something looming ahead of me and quickened my
pace, only to recoil. For there, not thirty feet away and perhaps

three hundred yards from the mouth of the cave, suddenly appeared
what looked like a gigantic man. Tommy saw it also and barked as

dogs do when they are frightened, and the sound of his yaps
echoed endlessly from every quarter, which scared him to silence.

Recovering myself I went forward, for now I guessed the truth. It
was not a man but a statue.

The thing stood upon a huge base which lessened by successive
steps, eight of them, I think, to its summit. The foot of this

base may have been a square of fifty feet or rather more; the
real support or pedestal of the statue, however, was only a

square of about six feet. The figure itself was little above
life-size, or at any rate above our life-size, say seven feet in

height. It was very peculiar in sundry ways.
To begin with, nothing of the body was visible, for it was

swathed like a corpse. From these wrappings projected one arm,
the right, in the hand of which was the likeness of a lighted

torch. The head was not veiled. It was that of a man, long-nosed,
thin-lipped, stern-visaged; the countenance pervaded by an awful

and unutterable calm, as deep as that of Buddha only less benign.
On the brow was a wreathed head-dress, not unlike an Eastern

turban, from which sprang two little wings resembling in some
degree those on the famous Greek head of Hypnos, lord of Sleep.

Between the folds of the wrappings on the back sprang two other
wings, enormous wings bent like those of a bird about to take

flight. Indeed the whole attitude of the figure suggested that it
was springing from earth to air. It was executed in black basalt

or some stone of the sort, and very highly finished. For
instance, on the bare feet and the arm which held the torch could

be felt every muscle and even some of the veins. In the same way
the details of the skull were perfectlyperceptible to the touch,

although at first sight not visible on the marble surface. This
was ascertained by climbing on the pedestal and feeling the face

with our hands.
Here I may say that its modelling as well as that of the feet

and the arm filled Bickley, who, of course, was a highly trained
anatomist, with absoluteamazement. He said that he would never

have thought it possible that such accuracy could have been
reached by an artist working in so hard a material.

When the others had arrived we studied this relic as closely as
our two candles would allow, and in turn expressed our opinions

of its significance. Bastin thought that if those things down
there were really the remains of aeroplanes, which he did not

believe, the statue had something to do with flying, as was shown
by the fact that it had wings on its head and shoulders. Also, he

added, after examining the face, the head was uncommonly like
that of the idol that he had blown up. It had the same long nose

and severe shut mouth. If he was right, this was probably another
effigy of Oro which we should do well to destroy at once before

the islanders came to worship it.
Bickley ground his teeth as he listened to him.

"Destroy that!" he gasped. "Destroy! Oh! you, you--early
Christian."

Here I may state that Bastin was quite right, as we proved
subsequently when we compared the head of the fetish, which, as

it will be remembered, he had brought away with him, with that of
the statue. Allowing for an enormous debasement of art, they were

essentially identical in the facial characteristics. This would
suggest the descent of a tradition through countless generations.

Or of course it may have been accidental. I am sure I do not
know, but I think it possible that for unknown centuries other

old statues may have existed in Orofena from which the idol was
copied. Or some daring and impious spirit may have found his way

to the cave in past ages and fashioned the local god upon this
ancient model.

Bickley was struck at once, as I had been, with the resemblance
of the figure to that of the Egyptian Osiris. Of course there

were differences. For instance, instead of the crook and the
scourge, this divinity held a torch. Again, in place of the crown

of Egypt it wore a winged head-dress, though it is true this was
not very far removed from the winged disc of that country. The

wings that sprang from its shoulders, however, suggested
Babylonia rather than Egypt, or the Assyrian bulls that are

similarly adorned. All of these symbolical ideas might have been
taken from that figure. But what was it? What was it?

In a flash the answer came to me. A representation of the
spirit of Death! Neither more nor less. There was the shroud;

there the cold, inscrutable countenance suggesting mysteries that
it hid. But the torch and the wings? Well, the torch was that

which lighted souls to the other world, and on the wings they
flew thither. Whoever fashioned that statue hoped for another

life, or so I was convinced.
I explained my ideas. Bastin thought them fanciful and