Isle of the Sleeper
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About This Book
"We are near the sleeper," she whispered. "Make no loud sound. All life on the island fears to go near him, and even I am afraid."
Curiosity stirred as they inched forward. Then sharp wonder took over. They stood at the edge of a perfectly circular clear space in the hushed green glade. In the center of the sun-lit circle lay a low square dais of dazzling crystal. On the dais stood a low copper couch with strangely carved sides. And on the couch, wrapped in a robe of golden cloth, ornamented with black figures, lay the motionless figure of a man. They stood wide-eyed in fearful awe.
"This must be the corpse laid here for burial by some unknown race long ago!" he exclaimed.
"No, he is not dead, only sleeping," she replied. "Speak not so loudly, lest you awaken him!"
Curiosity stirred as they inched forward. Then sharp wonder took over. They stood at the edge of a perfectly circular clear space in the hushed green glade. In the center of the sun-lit circle lay a low square dais of dazzling crystal. On the dais stood a low copper couch with strangely carved sides. And on the couch, wrapped in a robe of golden cloth, ornamented with black figures, lay the motionless figure of a man. They stood wide-eyed in fearful awe.
"This must be the corpse laid here for burial by some unknown race long ago!" he exclaimed.
"No, he is not dead, only sleeping," she replied. "Speak not so loudly, lest you awaken him!"
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