The coming storm threatening more and more, with now and then a little shiver of wind, a faint show of lightning, and dull grumblings of distant thunder.

I was in the lead.

I ran against something--a soft heavy something which gave, slightly, to the impulse of my weight; at the same moment the lightning glared out, and within a foot of my face was the writhing face of a man who was hanging from the limb of a tree! That is, it seemed to be writhing, but it was not.

It was a grewsome sight.
Straightway there was an ear-splitting explosion of thunder, and the bottom of heaven fell out; the rain poured down in a deluge.
No matter, we must try to cut this man down, on the chance that there might be life in him yet, mustn't we?
The lightning came quick and sharp now, and the place was alternately noonday and midnight.

One moment the man would be hanging before me in an intense light, and the next he was blotted out again in the darkness.
I told the king we must cut him down.