His intelligence seemed to dwell now in his muscles rather than in his brain.

His feet told him on what sort of a road he was walking; by his fatigue he estimated, without conscious thought, how far he had walked.
When he had gone for nearly two hours the storm had come so much nearer that the lightning constantly blinded his eyes.

He heard now the rushing of the river, and, as he turned into the road by its side, he saw the black hill looming large.

Nothing but the momentum of a will already made up kept his intention turned to the climb, so unpropitious was the time, so utterly lonely the place.

As it was, with quiescent mind and vigorous step, he held on down the smooth road that lay beside the swollen river.
Some way farther, when the water had either grown quieter or his ear accustomed to the sound, human voices I became audible, approaching on the road.