I knew that he was the leader of this company, and that his orders were obeyed by all.
I crawled out through the opening in the canvas and sat down beside my father on the seat.

The air was stifling with the dust that rose from the wagons and the many hoofs of the animals.

So thick was the dust that it was like mist or fog in the air, and the low sun shone through it dimly and with a bloody light.
Not alone was the light of this setting sun ominous, but everything about me seemed ominous--the landscape, my father's face, the fret of the babe in my mother's arms that she could not still, the six horses my father drove that had continually to be urged and that were without any sign of colour, so heavily had the dust settled on them.
The landscape was an aching, eye-hurting desolation.

Low hills stretched endlessly away on every hand.

Here and there only on their slopes were occasional scrub growths of heat-parched brush.