es he saw why the fire still burned--Susan was holding
an umbrella over it, the rain spitting in the hot ash, a pan of
biscuits balanced in the middle. Behind her the tent, one side
concave, the other bellying out from restraining pegs, leaped and
jerked at its moorings. A rumble of thunder rolled across the sky and
the rain came at them in a slanting wall.

"We're going to have biscuits for supper if the skies fall," Susan
shouted at him, and he had a glimpse of her face, touched with
firelight, laughing under the roof of the umbrella.

A furious burst of wind cut off his answer, the blue glare of lightning
suddenly drenched them, and the crackling of thunder tore a path across
the sky. The umbrella was wrenched from Susan and her wail as the
biscuits fell pierced the tumult with the thin, futile note of human
dole. He had no time to help her, for the tent with an exultant wrench
tore itself free on one side, a canvas wing boisterously leaping, while
the water dived in at the blankets. As he sped to its rescue he had an
impression of the umbrella, handle up, filling with water like a large
black bowl and Susan groveling in the ashes for her biscuits.

"The tent's going," he cried back; "all your things will be soaked.
Never mind the supper, come and help me." And it seemed in this moment
of tumult, that Susan ceased to be a woman to be cared for and
protected and became his equal, fighting with him against the forces of
the primitive world. The traditions of her helplessness were stripped
from her, and he called her to his aid as the cave man called his woman
when the storm fell on their bivouac.

They seized on the leaping canvas, he feeling in the water for the tent
pegs, she snatching at the ropes. He tried to direct her, shouting
orders, which were beaten down in the stuttering explosion of the
thunder. Once a furious gust sent her against him. The wind wrapped
her damp skirts round him and he felt her body soft and pliable. The
grasp of her hands was tight on his arms and close to his ear he heard
her laughing. For a second the quick pulse of the lightning showed her
to him, her hair glued to her cheeks, her wet bodice like a thin web
molding her shoulders, and as the darkness shut her out he again heard
her laughter broken by panting breaths.

"Isn't it glorious," she cried, struggling away from him. "That nearly
took me off my feet. My skirts are all twined round you."

They got the tent down