When he bent, it was before daylight; when he straightened his back, daylight had come.

It was just like that, as though someone had reached out his hand to turn on the illumination of the world.
The eastern mountains were fragile, the plain was ethereal, like a sea of liquid gases.

From the pasture we heard the shoutings of the wranglers, and made out a cloud of dust.

In a moment the first of the remuda came into view, trotting forward with the free grace of the unburdened horse.

Others followed in procession: those near sharp and well defined, those in the background more or less obscured by the dust, now appearing plainly, now fading like ghosts.