Below, in the gorge were
leaves and grasses and fragrant branches, but Pan-at-lee felt no
stomach for descending into that horrid abyss for the gratification
of mere creature comfort--only the necessity for food would drive
her there.
And so, as the shadows lengthened and night approached she prepared
to make as comfortable a bed as she could by gathering the dust
of ages into a little pile and spreading it between her soft body
and the hard floor--at best it was only better than nothing. But
Pan-at-lee was very tired. She had not slept since two nights before
and in the interval she had experienced many dangers and hardships.
What wonder then that despite the hard bed, she was asleep almost
immediately she had composed herself for rest.
She slept and the moon rose, casting its silver light upon the
cliff's white face and lessening the gloom of the dark forest and
the dismal gorge. In the distance a lion roared. There was a long
silence. From the upper reaches of the gorge came a deep bellow.
There was a movement in the trees at the cliff's foot. Again the
bellow, low and ominous. It was answered from below the deserted
village. Something dropped from the foliage of a tree directly
below the cave in which Pan-at-lee slept--it dropped to the ground
among the dense shadows. Now it moved, cautiously.
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