Storm had washed the air until it was like tonic; a salty perfume rose from the sea; and Olaf stood up and stretched himself and shook the wet from his body as he drank the sweetness into his lungs.

Shoreward Alan saw the mountains taking form, and one after another they rose up like living things, their crests catching the fire of the sun.

Dark inundations of forest took up the shimmering gleam, green slopes rolled out from behind veils of smoking vapor, and suddenly--in a final triumph of the sun--the Alaskan coast lay before him in all its glory.
The Swede made a great gesture of exultation with his free arm, grinning at his companion, pride and the joy of living in his bearded face.

But in Alan's there was no change.

Dully he sensed the wonder of day and of sunlight breaking over the mighty ranges to the sea, but something was missing.