He returned by the
path that he had broken, kindled his fire anew, dexterously
skinned and cleaned his rabbit, then cooked it and ate half,
although he ate slowly and with intervals between each piece.
How delicious it tasted, and how his physical being longed to
leap upon it and devour it, but the power of the mind was still
supreme. He knew what was good for himself, and he did it.
Everything was done in order and with sobriety. Then he put the
rest of the rabbit carefully in his food pouch, wrapped the
blanket about his body, leaned back, and stretched his feet to
the coals.
What an extraordinary change had come over the world in an hour!
He had not noticed before the great beauty of the lake, the lofty
cliffs on the farther shore, and the forest clothed in white and
hanging with icicles.
The winter sunshine was molten silver, pouring down in a flood.
It was not will now, but actuality, that made him feel the
strength returning to his frame. He knew that the blood in his
veins had begun to sparkle, and that his vitality was rising
fast. He could have gone to sleep peacefully, but instead he
went forth and hunted again. He knew that where the rabbit had
been, others were likely to be near, and before he returned he
had secured two more.
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