great valley over a ledge of stone three feet in height. After much
winding the ravine terminated in a wide pocket, a quarter of a mile
inland. Exit from this cul-de-sac was possible toward the east by a
steep slope leading to the top of one of the interior ridges of the
desert. Kenkenes did not pause at the cluster of houses. The roofs
had fallen in and the place was quite uninhabitable. But he leaped up
into the little valley and followed it to its end. There he climbed
the sharp declivity and turned back in the direction he had come, along
the flank of the hill that formed the north wall of the gorge. The
summit of the height was far above him, and the slope was covered with
limestone masses. There had been no frost nor rain to disturb the
original rock-piling. Only the agencies of sand and wind had
disarranged the distribution on which the builders of the earliest
dynasty had looked. And this was weird, mysterious and labyrinthine.

At a spot where a great deal of broken rock encumbered the ground,
Kenkenes unslung his wallet and tested the fragments with chisel and
mallet. It was the same as the quarry product--magnesium limestone,
white, fine, close-grained and easily worked. But it was broken in
fragments too small for his purpose. Above him were fields of greater
masses.

"Now, I was born under a fortunate sign," he said aloud as he scaled
the hillside; "but I fear those slabs are too long for a life-sized
statue."

On reaching them he found that those blocks which appeared from a
distance to weigh less than a ton, were irregular cubes ten feet high.

He grumbled his disappointment and climbed upon one to take a general