The fresh smell of pines hung about the track, and the clash of shovels and ringing of hammers mingled harmoniously with the deep-toned roar of the rapids.

The cold braced the muscles and stirred the blood, and the sounds of activity had an invigorating influence while the day was young, but Charnock felt slack.

His pain had gone, but he was conscious of a nervous tension and knew what it meant.

A small blister on his hand annoyed him, he growled at comrades who got in his way, and swore when the gravel fell in the wrong place.

Somehow he could not get the stuff to go where it ought.
For all that, he felt no serious inconvenience until about eleven o'clock, when a stinging pain spread across the front of his body.