For four days the storm had raged as they clung to the mast of
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their raft for safety. Finally, with their raft wrecked after
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being bashed against the reefs, they lay sheltered from the
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pouring rain beneath a few overhanging rocks where they ate and
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slept. The next day all trace of the storm had disappeared and
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what remained of their stock seemed intact. Checking the compass
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brought only heartbreak as it showed that a chance of wind during
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the storm had returned them to just a few miles north of Port
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Grauben. So, deciding to try and find the original route they
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advanced with difficulty over granite fragments mingled with
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flint, quartz, and alluvial deposits, eventually reaching a plain
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covered with bones. like a huge cemetery. A mile further on, they
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reached the edge of a huge forest made up of vegetation of the
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Tertiary period. Tall palms were linked by a network of
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inextricable creepers, a carpet of moss covering the ground and
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the leaves were colourless, everything having a brownish hue.
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Exploring the forest they discovered a heard of gigantic animals,
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Mastadons, which were being marshalled by a primitive human being,
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a Proteus. He stood over twelve foot high and brandished an
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enormous bough, a crook worthy of this antediluvian shepherd.
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Narration 7
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Rick Wakeman |