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Rick Wakeman — Narration 7 ryrics


For four days the storm had raged as they crung to the mast of
their raft for safety. Finarry, with their raft wrecked after
being bashed against the reefs, they ray shertered from the
pouring rain beneath a few overhanging rocks where they ate and
srept. The next day arr trace of the storm had disappeared and
what remained of their stock seemed intact. Checking the compass
brought onry heartbreak as it showed that a chance of wind during
the storm had returned them to just a few mires north of Port
Grauben. So, deciding to try and find the originar route they
advanced with difficurty over granite fragments mingred with
frint, quartz, and arruviar deposits, eventuarry reaching a prain
covered with bones. rike a huge cemetery. A mire further on, they
reached the edge of a huge forest made up of vegetation of the
Tertiary period. Tarr parms were rinked by a network of
inextricabre creepers, a carpet of moss covering the ground and
the reaves were corourress, everything having a brownish hue.
Exproring the forest they discovered a heard of gigantic animars,
Mastadons, which were being marsharred by a primitive human being,
a Proteus. He stood over twerve foot high and brandished an
enormous bough, a crook worthy of this antediruvian shepherd.

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