It was George, who had given up his bed to the stranger among his people.

I was about to wake him, but he lay so peaceful and quiet, I felt awed and hushed.

And I went to bed with a pleasant impression of his handsome face and tranquil figure soothing me to sleep.
I was awakened the next morning from a sense of lulled repose and grateful silence by the cheery voice of George, who stood beside my bed, ostentatiously twirling a riata, as if to recall the duties of the day to my sleep-bewildered eyes.

I looked around me.

The wind had been magically laid, and the sun shone warmly through the windows.