e dripping,
dripping, and the ground is wet. We cannot step outdoors without getting
a drenching. Like sheep, we are penned in the little hut, where no
one can stand erect. The rain swirls into the open front, and wets
the bottom of the blankets. The smoke drives in. We curl up, and enjoy
ourselves. The guides at length conclude that it is going to be damp.
The dismal situation sets us all into good spirits; and it is later than
the night before when we crawl under our blankets, sure this time of
a sound sleep, lulled by the storm and the rain resounding on the bark
roof. How much better off we are than many a shelter-less wretch! We
are as snug as dry herrings. At the moment, however, of dropping off to
sleep, somebody unfortunately notes a drop of water on his face; this
is followed by another drop; in an instant a stream is established. He
moves his head to a dry place. Scarcely has he done so, when he feels
a dampness in his back. Reaching his hand outside, he finds a puddle of
water soaking through his blanket. By this time, somebody inquires if
it is possible that the roof leaks. One man has a stream of water under
him; another says it is coming into his ear. The roof appears to be a
discriminating sieve. Those who are dry see no need of such a fuss. The
man in the corner spreads his umbrella, and the protective measure is
resented by his neighbor. In the darkness there is recrimination. One of
the guides, who is summoned, suggests that the rubber blankets be passed
out, and spread over the roof. The inmates dislike the proposal, saying
that a shower-bath is no worse than a tub-bath. The rain continues to
soak down. The fire is only half alive. The bedding is damp. Some
sit up, if they can find a dry spot to sit on, and smoke. Heartless
observations are made. A few sleep. And the night wears on. The morning
opens cheerless. The sky is still leaking, and so is the shanty. The
guides bring in a half-cooked breakfast. The roof is patched up.
There are reviving signs of breaking away, delusive signs that create
momentary exhilaration. Even if the storm clears, the woods are soaked.
There is no chance of stirring. The world is only ten feet square.

This life, without responsibility or clean clothes, may continue as long
as the reader desires. There are, those who would like to live in this
free fashion forever, taking rain and sun as heaven pleases; and there
are some souls so constituted that they cannot exist more th