In an hour--since he had heard the scream of the woman--he had come to hate it.

He wanted the feel of solid earth under his feet.

He wanted, with all his soul, to reach that narrow strip of coast where Mary Standish was drifting in.
But even Stampede saw no sign of the fire that was consuming him.

And not until Alan's feet touched land, and Cordova lay before him like a great hole in the mountains, did the strain give way within him.

After he had left the wharf, he stood alone in the darkness, breathing deeply of the mountain smell and getting his bearings.