noon
Saving the noon hour , I had been in the saddle since six , and now six was come round again . The ranch , my resting-place for this night , was a ruin -- cabin , stable , and corral . Yet after the twelve hours of pushing on and on through silence , still to have silence , still to eat and go to sleep in it , perfectly fitted the mood of both my flesh and spirit . At noon , when for a while I had thrown off my long oilskin coat , merely the sight of the newspaper half crowded into my pocket had been a displeasing reminder of the railway , and cities , and affairs . But for its possible help to build fires , it would have come no farther with me . The great levels around me lay cooled and freed of dust by the wet weather , and full of sweet airs . Far in front the foot-hills rose through the rain , indefinite and mystic .