At last it came stealing forth, timid, delicate, blushing like a bride from nuptial chamber, ethereal as an angel's wing, persistent as a glacial wall.

As it broadened and bloomed, the boy threw off his depression like a garment.

Briskly saddling his shivery but well-fed horse he set off, keeping more and more to the left, as his instructions ran.

But no matter in which direction he rode, his eyes were on the mountain.

"There is where I end," was his constantly repeated thought.
It would have been easy for him to have turned aside.
Shortly after sunrise he came upon a ranch set deep in a gully and sheltered by pinons.