The sun had risen.

All the mountain world of black range and gray hill and green valley, with its shining stream, was transformed as if by magic color.

Wade sat down with his back to an aspen-tree, his gaze down upon the ranch-house and the corrals.

A lazy column of blue smoke curled up toward the sky, to be lost there.

The burros were braying, the calves were bawling, the colts were whistling.