It was starting to get dark. Jesse had twisted his ankle an hour earlier. It was swelled up and walking was unbearable. He was moving slow and it had taken him two hours to make it back to the main trail and the massive oak tree that was the marker that had directed him to Amos's cabin. He couldn't stand the pain anymore and realized he wouldn't make it back to the truck before dark. He made a shelter out of dead long straight branches and put hemlock branches on top of them. He gathered kindling to start a fire but discovered he had left the matches with Amos. He was rubbing sticks together to start a fire but then it started to rain, soaking the small twigs he was trying to light. The old ridge runner laid in the shelter with no fire until it became completely dark. The rain intensified and he eventually became soaked. He started to shiver. He muttered to himself "I've been through worse" than added "but I was a lot younger then." He thought about the sealed letter and talked to himself some more "I'm lucky to have kids who listen to me but this is one time I hope they bend the rules a little and open that envelope telling them where I'm at. I'll likely die of hypothermia out here.....and I hope they bring Cooter's swamp buggy 'cause I don't know if they can carry me out by hand. That way they might be able to pick up Amos too."