The man in black fled across the desert and the gunslinger followed. The desert was the apotheosis of all deserts, huge, standing to the sky for what looked like eternity in all directions. It was white and blinding and waterless and without feature save for the faint, cloudy haze of the mountains which sketched themselves on the horizon and the devil-grass which brought sweet dreams, nightmares, death. An occasional tombstone sign pointed the way, for once the drifted track that cut its way through the thick crust of alkali had been a highway. Coaches and buckas had followed it. The world had moved on since then. The world had emptied.
The opening scene describes a compelling chase across an endless desert landscape, where a mysterious man in black is pursued by a gunslinger. This desert is depicted as vast and inhospitable, characterized by its glaring whiteness and relentless dryness. It stretches endlessly, with only faint mountains on the horizon and ominous grass that could evoke both dreams and dread. The remnants of a once-bustling highway are suggested by scattered tombstones, hinting...
