There were pools amidst the boulders, and when they had splashed through these to the edge of the forest, fallen needles and withered fern were spongy, while the dark branches shook down water on them as they swung to the chilly blast.
Seaforth groaned now and then as he struggled with the tent, while Alton tramped into the forest with the axe, but he came back presently with an armful of resinous chips, and his comrade's spirits rose a trifle when a crackling fire flung its red flicker through the creeping shadows.

It hissed as the gusts lashed it with the rain, but the blackened and dinted kettle boiled, and while they ate and drank the smoke-flavoured tea, a little warmth crept with the pungent vapour into the tent.
The bush was dim and shadowy before the meal was finished, but Alton flung fresh branches on the fire, and the blaze that whirled aloft rent a track of radiance through the rain, and called up the vague outlines of the columnar trunks.

Then he stretched himself out upon an armful of dripping twigs, and his garments steamed about him as he lighted an old blackened pipe.

Seaforth lay amidst the packages, feeling blissfully drowsy as the warmth crept slowly into his aching limbs.
Overhead the pine branches, wailed in wild harmonies, and the showers they shook down beat upon the tent.
"It seems to me this journey might have begun better," said Alton presently.
Seaforth nodded full concurrence.

"It would be a little difficult to imagine it commencing very much worse.