hardships.

At last he tore himself away, retraced his steps as cautiously as
he had conic, and flung himself upon the pony left waiting at a
sheltered nook far from the cove. As he sped over the plains toward
the distant herd, it came to him suddenly in a way not before
experienced, that it was May, that the air was balmy and fragrant,
and that the land, softly lighted in the clear twilight, was
singularly beautiful. He seemed breathing the roses back home--
which recalled another face, but not for long. The last time he
had seen that eastern face, the dew had lain on the early morning
roses--how could a face so different make him think of them? But
imagination is sometimes a bold robber, and now it did not hesitate
to steal those memories of sweet scents to encloud the picture of
the mountain-girl.

The G-Bar headquarters was on the western bank of what was then
known as Red River, but was really the North Fork of Red River.
"Old Man Walker," who was scarcely past middle age, had built his
corral on the margin of the plain which extended to that point in
an unbroken level from a great distance, and which, having reached
that point, dropped without warning, a sheer precipice, to an
extensive lake. The lake was fed by springs issuing from the
bluffs; not far beyond it and not much lower, was the bed of the
river, wide, very red and almost dry. Beyond the river rose the
bold hills of the Kiowa country, a white line chiseled across the
face of each, as if Time had entertained some thought of their
destruction, but finding each a huge block of living rock, had
passed on to torture and shift and alter the bed of the river.