The old man puffed stoically on. Jules sighed deeply, but said no more. He knew the iron will that lived in this body worn of years, bent with pain, but strong yet. They sat awhile before the fire, then crawled in on the fresh aromatic bed of green.
“Tonnerre, by dam’!” Le Grand ejaculated. “Bes’ put h’on de branches.” He and Jules hurriedly gathered more thick boughs and laid them, thatch-wise, over their heads, end to end across the forked limbs that served as supports.
“Dat h’anough,” Verbaux said, and they got inside and waited. The approaching thunder muttered louder and louder, and tines of ragged lightning darted from the black skies.
“By gar! dat goin’ be grand tempête!” said Jules.
The air was heavy and silent; the forest motionless.
“La voilà!” Le Grand shouted as the wind came suddenly, bending the dark trees and whistling shrilly through their impeding arms.
The thunder pealed, roar on roar, the vicious bolts jaggedly seared the air all round them, and then the rain fell in soaking torrents. It beat its way through the men’s shelter and dripped steadily on them.
“Bah! Phu-i-i-a!” Jules grunted as a stream of water poured on his face; his companion laughed and drew his skin jacket over his eyes.
_Boom! Crash! Cr-a-ckk!_ the lightning hurled itself on the forest, and the earth vibrated with the sharp rolls of voluminous sound. The water came now in solid sheets, and the lean-to was as a sieve over Jules and Le Grand. They were wet to the skin, but they were happy.
Then quickly as it had come, the storm passed by, the rain ceased, the air was still again; only the trees dripped liquidly while the hoarse mumblings and white flashes faded away to the southward.
The two wrung out their saturated clothes and slept.
Le Grand was the first to get up in the morning.
“Eternellement diable!” he said aloud; his voice wakened Jules.
“Somme t’ing de mattaire?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.
“Sacré by dam’, oui! Ah lef’ mon couteau dat toi geeve to me t’ree year’ h’ago à la rivière yes’day! Ah no vant lose dat, non plus; mus’ go back an’ fin’ eet,” and Le Grand swore.
“Non pas encore vieillard moi! No sooch ol’ man dat Ah can no go à traverse les forêts manny year’!” the other grunted, and the two had breakfast.