Chapter 48

           Thesunhasjustrisenclearabovetheprairiehorizon,hisrounddiscstillrestinguponthesward,likeabucklerofburnishedgold.Hisraysarestrugglingintothechapparal,thathereandtherediversifiesthesavanna.Thedew-beadsyetclingupontheacacias,weightingtheirfeatheryfronds,andcausingthemtodroopearthward,asifgrievingatthedepartureofthenight,whosecoolbreezeandmoistatmospherearemorecongenialtothemthanthefierysiroccoofday.Thoughthebirdsarestirringforwhatbirdcouldsleepundertheshineofsuchglorioussunrise?itisalmosttooearlytoexpecthumanbeingabroadelsewherethanupontheprairiesofTexas.There,however,thehourofthesun’srisingisthemostenjoyableoftheday;andfewtherearewhospenditupontheunconsciouscouch,orinthesolitudeofthechamber.

           BythebanksoftheLeona,somethreemilesbelowFortInge,thereisonewhohasforsakenboth,tostraythroughthechapparal.Thisearlywandererisnotafoot,butastrideastrong,spiritedhorse,thatseemsimpatientatbeingcheckedinhispaces.Bythisdescription,youmaysupposetheridertobeaman;but,rememberingthatthesceneisinSouthernTexasstillsparselyinhabitedbyaSpano-Mexicanpopulationyouareequallyatlibertytoconjecturethattheequestrianisawoman.

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