“Yes; by the scratches on the thing it looks as if it had found its way down some rocky mountain stream. Ah! you’ve got it upside down, I think. That way—there now—it’s plain enough. This word is clearly ‘prisoner’; and these are ‘Te Maka,’ which, with the space left after it, must once have been ‘Te Makawawa.’ ”
“Yes, and this is ‘mountain,’ ” he ran on, spelling in advance of me; “and this is meant for ‘Table Land.’ ”
“Quite right; and here is the date fairly clear, showing that this was done three years ago.”
“But by whom?” he asked quickly; “that is the point.”
For answer I pointed to some marks in the corner below the date. “What do you make of that?” I asked.
He scrutinised them carefully for some minutes, then, turning to me said: “I can certainly make nothing else than ‘Miriam’ out of it.”
“Nor I,” I replied; “and, if you notice, there is an obliteration after it which, from the length of it, might once have been ‘Grey.’ ”
“That is true, but the conclusion that ‘Miriam Grey’ is held a ‘prisoner’ of ‘Te Makawawa’ in a ‘mountain’ near the ‘Table Land’ is weak in many parts.”
“True, but I can strengthen it,” I hastened to reply. “Do you see anything in that carving which points to superior talent in the person who did it?”
“Indeed I do,” he replied with certainty; “this is the work of no ordinary carver. I should be inclined to say it was the work of a genius. There are signs of delicate execution about it which no one could mistake.”