The waters of the lake whenever they were disclosed were black and seething, and all the islands were invisible.
Robert looked mostly at the great fire that crackled and blazed so near.
It was fed continually by Indians and rangers, who did not care for the rain, and it alone defied the storm.

The sheets of rain, poured upon it, seemed to have no effect.

The coals merely hissed as if it were oil instead of water, and the flames leaped higher, deep red at the heart and often blue at the edges.
Robert had never seen a more beautiful fire, a vast core of warmth and light that challenged alike darkness, wind and rain.

There had been a time, so he had heard, in the remote, dim ages when man knew nothing of fire.

It might have been true, but he did not see how man could have existed, and certainly no cheer ever came into his life.