Cold, wet air struck his face, and darkness, almost pitchy, enveloped the cabin.

Moon and stars were gone, and could not see the circling wail of the forest.

The rain beat with a low, throbbing sound on the board roof, and, with a kind of long sigh, on the ground outside.

It seemed to Paul a very cold and a very wet rain indeed, one that would be too much for any sort of human beings, white or red.
"I think, we're safe to-night, Henry," he said, as he closed and fastened the window.
"Yes, to-night," replied Henry.
Paul slept a dreamless sleep, lulled by the steady pour of the rain on the roof, and when he awoke in the morning the sun was shining brightly, without a cloud in the sky.

But the forest dripped with rain.