"Well," said Allenby, "you can't deny that it has its holy aspects."
"Get your hand away, will you, Peters?" asked Janus.
I did. When Janus's camera had clicked, I bent again and peered through the hole. "It sights on that low ridge over there," I said. "Maybe it's some kind of surveying setup. I'm going to take a look."
"Careful," warned Janus. "Remember, it may be sacred."
As I walked away, I heard Allenby say, "Take some scrapings from the inside of the hole, Gonzales. We might be able to determine if anything is kept in it...."
One of the stumpy, purplish, barrel-type cacti on the ridge had a long vertical bite out of it ... as if someone had carefully carved out a narrow U-shaped section from the top down, finishing the bottom of the U in a neat semicircle. It was as flat and cleancut as the inside surface of a horseshoe magnet.
I hollered. The others came running. I pointed.
"Oh, my God!" said Allenby. "Another one."
The pulp of the cactus in and around the U-hole was dried and dead-looking.
Silently Burton used his tape-measure. The hole measured four and three-eighths inches across. It was eleven inches deep. The semicircular bottom was about a foot above the ground.