Explore "A Bush Bayard" by John Sandes on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Dawn on the Fish River.
The first red streaks of the sun shot through the mountain mist and lit up a grim and rugged landscape that nevertheless was not without promise. There was water. There were patches of rich pasture for sheep and cattle. Yonder to the west beyond those gloomy mountains, stretched an immense expanse of plain land, all virgin soil that had never known hoof or plough. For hundreds of miles a man might ride along the great fertile untouched country that stretched away towards the sunset, and yet never see the end of those illimitable plains. With the coming of the white man all that spacious land was emerging at last from its profound obscurity, even as this rocky glen on the Fish River was becoming visible in the spreading light of the winter dawn.