It might come now.

As I took the old horse by the head and raced him down the mountain side, I felt I was living again and might call myself a man once more.
The sun was just rising, the morning was misty and drizzling; the long sour-grass, the branches of the scrubby trees, everything we touched and saw was dripping with the night dew, as we rode up a 'gap' between two stiffish hills.

We had been riding all night from track to track, sometimes steering by guesswork.

Jim seemed to know the country in a general way, and he told us father and he had been about there a good deal lately, cattle-dealing and so on.

For the last hour or so we had been on a pretty fair beaten road, though there wasn't much traffic on it.