CHAPTER 8CANNIBAL FISH
John awoke the next morning to the sound of rain dripping from the eaves of the house. For a few minutes he lay drowsily enjoying the warmth of his bed. He was sore and stiff, but Lew’s ointment had done its work well, for he felt no pain from his burns. He looked at his watch. It was eight o’clock; he had slept twelve hours. He dressed guiltily, and peered out the bedroom window.
Overnight a dry, parched world had become a soaking wet one. Water dripped from the branches of the trees that surrounded the house, stood in puddles in the road. The leaves were soaked, and the usually clear waters of Big Kettle River were tinted a light brown. Gray rain clouds still had command of the sky, and banks of mist rode low on the mountains.
John went downstairs to find Profes
