Before going to bed, Brian noticed that the insects were not as bad as usual and that thick clouds had formed, but he did not expect such a heavy storm. He wakes in the middle of the night to the rain: mild at first, but rapidly increasing in intensity. The wind collapses his tent and Brian rolls in it toward the lakeshore. An arrow stabs his leg in the tumult and the canoe hits him on the head, making him black out. When Brian comes to, he takes each thought one at a time to get his bearings. He waits out the rain for the rest of the night underneath the canoe, and although he feels foolish for failing to plan for rain, he is thankful to have tied the canoe to a tree.

Brian spends the following day recovering from the storm. He chides himself for not taking more precautions like gathering wood and digging a rain gutter around the tent. However, he learns from his mistakes, realizing that nature would “do what it wanted to do” (83), regardless of what he expects. Brian tends to the puncture wound on his leg from the arrow; although it throbs, it isn’t deep.