God was with him.

Life was with him.

His world was opening its arms to him again--and he sang as if Nada was only a mile away from him instead of a thousand.
When he went on, after their breakfast, he laughed at the thought of Breault discovering their trail.

The Ferret would be more than human to do that after what wind and storm and fire had done for them.
This first day of their pilgrimage into the southland was a day of glory from its beginning until the setting of the sun.

There was no cloud in the sky.