Freeman made up his mind to follow it up on foot, after the descending sun should have thrown a shadow over it.

The indications, in his judgment, were not without promise that a system of judiciously-applied blastings might open up a source of water that would transform this dreadful barrenness into something quite different.
The shade of the great pyramid fell upon him as he lay, but the tumultuous wall opposite was brilliantly illuminated: the sky, over it, was of a peculiar brassy hue, but entirely cloudless.

The radiations from the baked surface, ascending vertically, made the rocky bastion seem to quiver, as if it were a reflection cast on undulating water.
The wreaths of tobacco-smoke that emanated from Freeman's mouth also ascended, until they touched the slant of sunlight overhead.

As the young man's eyes followed these, something happened that caused him to utter an exclamation and raise himself on one arm.
All at once, in the vacant air diagonally above him, a sort of shadowy shimmer seemed to concentrate itself, which was rapidly resolved into color and form.

It was much as if some unseen artist had swept a mass of mingled hues on a canvas and then had worked them with magical speed into a picture.