Its breath is sweet on my face.

It comes from the setting sun, from the greatest of all seas that lies beyond our continent, it blows over the vast unknown plains that are trodden by the buffalo in myriads, it comes across the mighty forests of the great valley, it is loaded with all the odors and perfumes of our immense land, and now it carries us, too, to safety." "You talk in hexameters, Tayoga, but I think your rhapsody is justified.

I also have plenty of cause now to love the west wind.

How long do you think it will be until we feel the dawn on our faces ?" "Two hours, perhaps, but we may reach land before then.

While I cannot smell the dawn I seem to perceive the odor of the forest.