The leaves directly over his head were so thick that they formed a canopy, and, as he heard the drops fall upon them, it was like the rain on a roof, that soothes the one beneath its shelter.
Distant lightning flared once or twice, and low thunder rolled along the southern horizon, but both soon ceased, and then a rain, not hard, but cold and persistent, began to fall, coming straight down.

Henry saw that it might last all night, but he merely eased himself a little in the canoe, drew the edges of the blanket around his chin, and let his eyelids droop.
The rain was now seeping through the leafy canopy of green, but he did not care.

It could not penetrate the close fiber of the blanket, and the fur cap drawn far down on his head met the blanket.

Only his face was uncovered, and when a cold drop fell upon it, it was to him, hardened by forest life, cool and pleasant to the touch.
Although the eyelids still drooped, he did not yet feel the tendency to sleep.

It was merely a deep, luxurious rest, with the body completely relaxed, but with the senses alert.