a high roof on poles.

"If you feel cold, or if the rain comes in, just burrow down under the
straw," said the peasant. "Very glad I am that you have come to me,
that you have done me the honour. Much better to ask hospitality than
to sleep out."

I quite agreed it was much better to sleep with man on such a night.
The lightnings were now all about--never leaving a second's pure
darkness. The thunder grew more powerful and rolled forward from three
sides.

My host stood by me after I had lain down, a whole hour. He was most
hilarious, having partaken plentifully of festival fare. He warned me
repeatedly against sleeping on the ground, and advised me to find bark
or withered branches to lie upon if I would not seek shelter with man.
The increasing storm did not seem to impress him in the slightest. He
was all agog to tell me his family history and to compare the state of
agriculture in England with that in Russia. Only when his sons came
home and the heavy rain spots had begun to shower down upon him did he
finally shake my hand, wish me well, cross himself, and stump off back
to the house.

Three tall young men scrambled over me into the straw and buried
themselves: two laughed and talked, the other was silent and
frightened. There was no sleep. The thunder grew louder and louder,
and the lightning rushed over our faces like the sudden glare of a
searchlight. All four of us put our faces to the straw to shut out
the light, and we tried to sleep. But we knew that the tempest at its
worst had yet to break. Suddenly came a sharp premonitory crash just
above us, near, astonishing. One of the young men, who had just dozed
off, woke up and scratched his head, saying--

"The little bear has got into the maize. Eh, brothers, this is going
to be a big piece of work."

Then a great wind broke out of the sky and tore through the forests
like armies of wild beasts. The trees within our view bent down as
if they would break in two; the moon above them was overswept by the
cloud. When the moon's light had gone the night became darker and the
lightning brighter. The framework of our shelter rocked to and fro in
the gale and we felt as if upon the sea; the straw and the hay jumped
up as if alive, and great lumps of thatch were rent out of the roof,
showing the sky and letting in the rain. I looked for the ruin of our
shelter.

But the hurricane passed on. The rain came in its place. The great
forty-day flood re-accomplished