So regular became his movements that they ran in a sort of rhythmic accompaniment to his thoughts.

The monotonous splash, splash, splash of the outflung pails of water assumed, after a few minutes, the character of a mechanical thing.

He could smell the nearness of the shore.

Even in the rain the tang of cedar and balsam came to him faintly.
But it was the river that impressed itself most upon his senses.

It seemed to him, as the minutes passed, like a living thing.