Explore "Smoky the Cowhorse" by Will James on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The long spring days followed by the warmer days of middle summer had took away all signs of snow excepting where the peaks was highest and the canyons deep and narrow. Up there was crusted hunks still holding out against the sun and hugging the shady sides of rocky ledges, and leaving out moisture that kept the springs and creeks running to the flats below.
The grass was greener up there, the flies wasn't so bad, and besides there was always a breeze and sometimes a wind which made things mighty cooling, especially in the shade of the twisted pines scattered over the country where Smoky, his mammy, and the bunch was ranging.