The beauties of the place, however, had no attraction for me until I had in some measure assuaged my burning thirst, which I did by going down upon my hands and knees on a convenient rock, and plunging my heated face into the cool, pellucid water. I was careful to drink at first with extreme moderation, and then, having satisfied the first sharp craving for a draught, I stripped and plunged in, treating myself to as thorough an ablution as was possible in the absence of my cake of old brown Windsor. Refreshed and invigorated with the bath, I at length emerged, and dressing with all expedition, sat down to discuss my biscuits, which I disposed of to the last mouthful, gazing admiringly upon my surroundings meanwhile.
My meal finished, it became necessary for me to set out forthwith in search of the road which was to guide me to my destination. I had no intention whatever of retracing my steps over the ground already traversed. In the first place, I was exceedingly doubtful whether I could find my way back to the spot from which I had started, and in the next, I considered that it would be simply a waste of time and strength. I had not been altogether unmindful of the course I was steering while seeking for the river, and I was of opinion that though I had been travelling rather away from the road, if anything, yet on the whole my course had been pretty much in its direction. In order to regain it, therefore, all that seemed necessary was to make my way in a direction about at right angles with my former course.
I accordingly edged away in what I judged to be the right direction, choosing my ground, however, more with a view to easy than to direct progress. I estimated that it would occupy about an hour, or perhaps an hour and a half—certainly not more—to regain the road, and as I was anxious to do this before it became quite dark, I pushed rapidly forward, and the wood growing somewhat more open as I proceeded, with less undergrowth, I made very fair progress.
The hour which I had allowed myself passed, and still there was no sign of the road. I felt sure, however, that it could not be far away, and at all events I was going in the right direction, the ground rising continuously, so I carried on under a heavy press of sail, expecting every moment to emerge into the beaten track, and growing increasingly anxious to do so as I noted the rapidity with which darkness was falling upon the scene, notwithstanding the fact that the trees were by this time so far apart and the ground so clear that walking was as easy as it would have been on the road itself. In this state of mingled hope and anxiety I hurried on for another hour, still without hitting upon the road; by which time it had become so dark that I grew fearful of losing my way. The stars had appeared, and shone brilliantly, their light, however, being insufficient to enable me to see where I was going; so after stumbling on over the uneven ground for a quarter of an hour longer, during which I experienced more than one awkward tumble, the conclusion forced itself upon me that I had strayed somewhat from the right direction, and had better defer until the next morning any further effort to discover the lost road.
Having arrived at this conclusion, my next business was to find a tolerably comfortable spot in which to bestow myself for the night. While searching for this, I quite unexpectedly reached the edge of the wood, and in another minute stood beyond its boundary, finding myself upon a broad expanse of rugged, open moorland, at the farther extremity of which the ground again rose steeply until it terminated in what was evidently the ridge of the mountain-chain running north and south through the island.
Two circumstances struck me at the same moment on emerging into the open, one of which was that a heavy thunder-storm was rapidly working up against the wind, the other being that a hut or hovel of some sort stood about half a mile distant.
The question immediately arose in my mind whether I should approach this building, upon the chance of obtaining a night’s lodging therein, or whether it would be more prudent to pass the night and brave the gathering storm in the open. I might of course have returned to the comparative shelter of the wood, but I should have been obliged to penetrate it for some distance before it would be thick enough to afford me the slightest protection from the deluge of rain which was coming up in those black and threatening clouds, and, in addition to this, I felt that, while only inadequately sheltered from the rain, I should be exposed to the very serious danger of being struck by lightning. Then again, it was possible that the hut might be deserted, in which case I need have no hesitation about availing myself of its shelter. There was of course, on the other hand, a chance of its being inhabited, but if so, its occupant would probably be no one more dangerous than a simple herd or wood-cutter, and it was not from such that I had anything to fear. As I stood irresolute, turning these matters over in my mind, a vivid flash of lightning, followed, after a pause of some seconds, by the long reverberating roll of distant thunder, reminded me of the desirability of coming to a decision, one way or another, without delay; I accordingly made up my mind to risk going to the hut, rather than remain exposed to the storm.
I therefore hurried forward, the lightning meanwhile flashing out more and more vividly, and at shorter intervals; the thunder sounding louder and nearer at every discharge; and the vast curtain of cloud spreading rapidly athwart the sky, obliterating the stars, and enveloping nature in a pall of awful gloom.
On approaching the hut, it became apparent that it was uninhabited, for the door hung pendent from one hinge, the other being wrenched off, while of the two small windows which admitted light to the interior, one sash was gone altogether, the aperture being completely denuded of every vestige of woodwork, while the other was protected only by a battered and weather-stained wooden shutter. The edifice itself was constructed of sods, the roof being roughly framed together with branches—no doubt lopped from the trees of the neighbouring wood—and thatched.
I reached the building only just in time. While yet a hundred yards or so from it, the cool night-breeze dropped all in a moment, and was succeeded by a hushed and breathless calm. An awful silence suddenly fell upon nature, the myriad insect voices became mute, the night-birds ceased to utter their melancholy cries, the sighing of the wind through the trees of the distant wood was no longer heard; a hush of dread expectancy ensued. A few seconds elapsed, and then a mysterious murmur filled the air, the trees swayed and tossed their branches wildly for a moment, a fierce gust of hot air swept past, and all was still again. I dashed forward and reached the doorway, and as I passed across the threshold, the canopy of cloud overhead was rent open, a blinding flash of livid lightning blazed out, illumining for a single instant the whole landscape, as well as the interior of the building, and at the same instant came a deafening crash, such as might occur were the universe suddenly to crumble into ruin. So near was the lightning that I really fancied (if it was fancy and not fact after all) I could feel it scorch my cheek, and there could be no doubt whatever about the strong sulphurous smell which pervaded the atmosphere.