The desert storm was riding in its strength; the travellers lay beneath the mastery of the fell simoom. […] Roaring, leaping, pouncing, the tempest raged about the wanderers, drowning and blotting out their forms with sandy spume.

Man does vvith dangerous Curioſity / Theſe unfathom'd VVonders try: / VVith fancy'd Rules and Arbitrary Lavvs / Matter and Motion he reſtrains, / And ſtudy'd Lines and fictious Circles dravvs; […]

I used my torch to light the way home through the woods in the night.

He owns a horse, a Morgan filly named Funquest Siri, and soon he'll own a ranch near Kansas City (he won't say where). Moreover, Brett has the chafed fanny and blistered memories of riding a real roundup back to his claim. It's not unreasonable to credit some of Brett's cowboyitis for his more relaxed personality since the baseball strike ended.