A quarter of an hour they fought through it to the rising ground beyond.

And by that time the last of the black storm clouds had passed overhead.

The rain had ceased.
The rumble of thunder came more faintly.

There was no lightning, and the tree-tops began to whisper softly, as if rejoicing in the passing of the wind.

About them--everywhere--they could hear the run and drip of water, the weeping of the drenched trees, the gurgle of flooded pools, and the trickle of tiny rivulets that splashed about their feet.