10/9/2008
5
The Rubbing
The
sun was still bright enough to illuminate his office when Paul returned
to it. He threw open the door and, in spite of the heat that
welled out of the stifling room, closed it quickly. As the door
shut, his eyes locked on the rubbing of the basalt plug. In the
halflight, the markings taken from the stone appeared to leap out of
the paper toward him.
Paul
stood amazed, sweat trickling into his eyes. The meaning of the
diagram and the entire script came clearly to him. He had been
interpreting the meaning of the engravings incorrectly. They
were not hieroglyphics in the true sense; they were pictograms.
They described their meaning by illustration.