At morn they awoke to an air surcharged with some keen elixir which gave delight in sense of living.

The subtle fragrance of the plains, born of no fruit or flower, but begotten of the sheer cleanliness of the thrice-pure air, came to their nostrils as they actually snuffed the day.

So came the sun himself, with heralds of pink and royal purple, with banners of flaming red and gold.

At this the coyotes saluted yet more shrilly and generally.

The lone gray wolf, sentinel on some neighbouring ridge, looked down, contemptuous in his wisdom.