Quiet beyond quiet. Only the grillos are singing. The dust of the land scents the night. Above him, the wide sweep of sky is spangled with stars. But the young man does not know this. His eyes are only upon the adobe house, ahead a small distance.

An old dog of once great ferocity awakens. In his throat a growl begins. Then by some deep spell the growl becomes a whine. Suddenly, the dog stands beside the one who is coming.

And he dances in the dust like a thing possessed. And he licks the hand of the limping young man. The young man ruffles the big bucket head, holds the old dog close to his breast. He kneels to touch the blessed earth and then—he is rushing rushing, for the house.