He fought his way on by the light of the moon which was clearer now.

And at last, in a resting spell, he heard far ahead of him the howl of a wolf.
In his joy he cried out.

A western breeze brought him air that he drank in as a desert-stricken man drinks water.

He did not look at his compass again, but worked steadily in the face of that fresh air.

An hour later he found that he was paddling again a slow current, and when he tasted the water it was only slightly tainted with sulphur.