Nor did any martial sounds come to them.

The rustle of the leaves under the gentle wind was soothing.

He was back at Pendleton.

Harry Kenton was fishing farther up the stream, and so were other boys, his old friends of the little town.
The bit of forest was to all intents a wilderness just then, and it was so pleasant in the comfortable place between the supporting roots of the tree that Dick fell into a dreamy state, in which all things were delightful.

It was perhaps the power of contrast, but after so much riding and fighting he felt a sheer physical pleasure in sitting there and watching the clear stream flow swiftly by.