The hot earth steamed at the touch, and, burning with thirst, quickly drank in the moisture.

The wind grew and the drops fell faster.

The heat fled away, driven by the waves of cool, fresh air that came out of the west.

Washed by the rain the dry grass straightened up, and the dying leaves opened out, springing into new life.

Faster and faster came the drops and now the sound they made was like the steady patter of musketry.