The coming of the morning had invariably brought cheerfulness and increase of spirits, but now he felt depression.

He foresaw heavy rain again, and it would destroy any but the deepest trail.

Moreover, his supplies of food were exhausted and he must replenish them in some manner before proceeding further.
A spirit even as bold and strong as Henry's might well have despaired.
He had found his comrades, only to lose them again, and the danger that had threatened them, and the elements as well, now threatened him, too.
An acute judge of sky and air, he knew that the rain, cold, insistent, penetrating, would fall all day, and that he must seek shelter if he would keep his strength.

The Indians themselves always took to cover at such times.
He wrapped the blanket around himself, covering his body well from neck to ankle, putting his rifle just inside the fold, but with his hand upon it, ready for instant use if it should be needed.

Then he started, walking straight ahead until he came to the crown of a little hill.
The clouds meanwhile thickened, and the rain, of the kind that he had foreseen and as cold as ice, was blown against him.