The ponies were exhausted and their coats were heavy with water,
but they were free, free, free! They raised their heads and
snuffed the wind. The smell was unlike that of the lowland moors
in Spain, but it was good! They sucked in the sharp sweet
pungence of pine woods, and somewhere mixed in with
the piney smell came the enticing scent of salt grass.
--Margurite Henry, Misty of Chincoteague