All through the night the dog followed him.  He would forget it for a time, and then it would be so close that he could see it dimly.  He never heard it bark, but it snapped at him, and a grin had become the expression of its face.  He stoned it, he even flung himself at it, he addressed it in caressing tones, and always with the result that it disappeared, to come back presently.

He found himself walking in a lake, and now even the instinct of self-preservation must have been flickering, for he waded on, rejoicing merely in getting rid of the dog.  Something in the water rose and struck him.  Instead of stupefying him, the blow brought him to his senses, and he struggled for his life.  The ground slipped beneath his feet many times, but at last he was out of the water.  That he was out in a flood he did not realize; yet he now acted like one in full possession of his faculties.  When his feet sank in water, he drew back; and many times he sought shelter behind banks and rocks, first testing their firmness with his hands.  Once a torrent of stones, earth, and heather carried him down a hillside until he struck against a tree.  He twined his arms round it, and had just done so when it fell with him.  After that, when he touched trees growing in water, he fled from them, thus probably saving himself from death.

What he heard now might have been the roll and crack of the thunder.  It sounded in his ear like nothing else.  But it was really something that swept down the hill in roaring spouts of water, and it passed on both sides of him so that at one moment, had he paused, it would have crashed into him, and at another he was only saved by stopping.  He felt that the struggle in the dark was to go on till the crack of doom.

Then he cast himself upon the ground.  It moved beneath him like some great animal, and he rose and stole away from it.  Several times did this happen.  The stones against which his feet struck seemed to acquire life from his touch.  So strong had he become, or so weak all other things, that whatever clump he laid hands on by which to pull himself out of the water was at once rooted up.

The daylight would not come.  He longed passionately for it.  He tried to remember what it was like, and could not; he had been blind so long.  It was away in front somewhere, and he was struggling to overtake it.  He expected to see it from a dark place, when he would rush forward to bathe his arms in it, and then the elements that were searching the world for him would see him and he would perish.  But death did not seem too great a penalty to pay for light.