a pocket-knife.

The sheets were all more or less stuck together, and so I did not go in
for separating them farther. They fitted exactly to the cavity in which
they were stored, but by smashing down its front I was able to get at
the foot of them, and then I hacked away through the bottom layers with
the knife till I got the bulk out in one solid piece. It measured some
twenty inches by fifteen, by fifteen, but it was not so heavy as it
looked, and when I had taken the remaining photographs, I lowered it
down to Coppinger on the end of the rope.

There was nothing more to do in the caves then, so I went down myself
next. The lump of sheets was on the ground, and Coppinger was on all
fours beside it. He was pretty nearly mad with excitement.

"What is it?" I asked him.

"I don't know yet. But it is the most valuable find ever made in the
Canary Islands, and it's yours, you unappreciative beggar; at least what
there is left of it. Oh, man, man, you've smashed up the beginning, and
you've smashed up the end of some history that is probably priceless.
It's my own fault. I ought to have known better than set an untrained
man to do important exploring work."

"I should say it's your fault if anything's gone wrong. You said there
was no such thing as writing known to these ancient Canarios, and I
took your word for it. For anything I knew the stuff might have been
something to eat."

"It isn't Guanche work at all," said he testily. "You ought to have
known that from the talc. Great heavens, man, have you no eyes? Haven't
you seen the general formation of the island? Don't you know there's no
talc here?"

"I'm no geologist. Is this imported literature then?"

"Of course. It's Egyptian: that's obvious at a glance. Though how
it's got here I can't tell yet. It isn't stuff you can read off like
a newspaper. The character's a variant on any of those that have been
discovered so far. And as for this waxy stuff spread over the talc,
it's unique. It's some sort of a mineral, I think: perhaps asphalt. It
doesn't scratch up like animal wax. I'll analyse that later. Why they
once invented it, and then let such a splendid notion drop out of use,
is just a marvel. I could stay gloating over this all day."

"Well," I said, "if it's all the same for you, I'd rather gloat over a
meal. It's a good ten miles hard going to the fonda, and I'm as hungry
as a hawk already. Look here, do you know it is four o'clock already?
It takes lo