Being what
nature and circumstance had made him, he was conscious, instead,
of a deep sense of peace and comfort. He was at ease, in a nest
for the night, and there was only the remotest possibility that
the prying eye of an enemy would see him. The leaves directly
over his head were so thick that they formed a canopy, and, as he
heard the drops fall upon them, it was like the rain on a roof,
that soothes the one beneath its shelter.
Distant lightning flared once or twice, and low thunder rolled
along the southern horizon, but both soon ceased, and then a
rain, not hard, but cold and persistent, began to fall, coming
straight down. Henry saw that it might last all night, but he
merely eased himself a little in the canoe, drew the edges of the
blanket around his chin, and let his eyelids droop.
The rain was now seeping through the leafy canopy of green, but
he did not care. It could not penetrate the close fiber of the
blanket, and the fur cap drawn far down on his head met the
blanket. Only his face was uncovered, and when a cold drop fell
upon it, it was to him, hardened by forest life, cool and
pleasant to the touch.
Although the eyelids still drooped, he did not yet feel the
tendency to sleep.
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