It was curious, but at such times his hope was highest.

He stood up, defying the lash of wind and rain, and felt his courage rise with the contest.

Often, he ran up and down the beach until he was soaked through, letting the fierce waves sweep almost to his feet, then he would go back to the house, change to dry clothing, and sleep without dreams.
There was no snow, although he longed for it, as do those who are born in northern regions.

Once, when he stood on the crest of the tallest hill on the island, he thought he saw a few tiny flakes floating in the air over his head, but they were swept away by the wind, as if they were down, and he never knew whether it was an illusion or reality.

But he was glad that it had happened.