Death by starvation is slow.

You would sell your own people?" the captain asked, not sounding surprised.
"Better a life of servitude than death by starvation.

This is the sense of the desert hills, that there is room enough and time enough.

Over the tops of it, beginning to dusk under a young white moon, trailed a wavering ghost of smoke, and at the end of it I came upon the Pocket Hunter making a dry camp in the friendly scrub.

Nevertheless there are certain peaks, canons, and clear meadow spaces which are above all compassing of words, and have a certain fame as of the nobly great to whom we give no familiar names.

For one thing there is the divinest, cleanest air to be breathed anywhere in God's world.