The light illumined their faces, and each saw that the other was not unhappy.
Bruce was grinning under his sodden hair.
"I was dead asleep when it came," he explained.

"An' I thought I'd fallen in a lake.

I woke up tryin' to swim." An early July rain at three o'clock in the morning in the northern British Columbia mountains is not as warm as it might be, and for the greater part of an hour Langdon and Bruce continued to gather fuel and dry their blankets and clothing.

It was five o'clock before they had breakfast, and a little after six when they started with their two saddles and single pack up the valley.

Bruce had the satisfaction of reminding Langdon that his prediction had come true for a glorious day followed the thunder shower.
Under them the meadows were dripping.