He felt the wildness and loneliness of the place, the breathing of nature; he peered aloft at the velvet blue of the mysterious sky with its deceiving stars.

All that had been of help to him through days of trial was now as if it had never been.

When he lifted his eyes to the great, dark peak, so bold and clear-cut against the sky, it was not to receive strength again.

Nature in its cruelty mocked him.

His struggle had to do with the most perfect of nature's works--man.
Wade was now in passionate strife with the encroaching mood that was a mocker of his idealism.