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And
a
great
weariness
was
in
her
eyes
.
The
people
on
top
of
the
load
did
look
back
.
They
saw
the
house
and
the
barn
and
a
little
smoke
still
rising
from
the
chimney
.
They
saw
the
windows
reddening
under
the
first
color
of
the
sun
.
They
saw
Muley
standing
forlornly
in
the
dooryard
looking
after
them
.
And
then
the
hill
cut
them
off
.
The
cotton
fields
lined
the
road
.
And
the
truck
crawled
slowly
through
the
dust
toward
the
highway
and
the
west
.
The
houses
were
left
vacant
on
the
land
,
and
the
land
was
vacant
because
of
this
.
Only
the
tractor
sheds
of
corrugated
iron
,
silver
and
gleaming
,
were
alive
;
and
they
were
alive
with
metal
and
gasoline
and
oil
,
the
disks
of
the
plows
shining
.
The
tractors
had
lights
shining
,
for
there
is
no
day
and
night
for
a
tractor
and
the
disks
turn
the
earth
in
the
darkness
and
they
glitter
in
the
daylight
.
And
when
a
horse
stops
work
and
goes
into
the
barn
there
is
a
life
and
a
vitality
left
,
there
is
a
breathing
and
a
warmth
,
and
the
feet
shift
on
the
straw
,
and
the
jaws
clamp
on
the
hay
,
and
the
ears
and
the
eyes
are
alive
.
There
is
a
warmth
of
life
in
the
barn
,
and
the
heat
and
smell
of
life
.
But
when
the
motor
of
a
tractor
stops
,
it
is
as
dead
as
the
ore
it
came
from
.
The
heat
goes
out
of
it
like
the
living
heat
that
leaves
a
corpse
.
Then
the
corrugated
iron
doors
are
closed
and
the
tractor
man
drives
home
to
town
,
perhaps
twenty
miles
away
,
and
he
need
not
come
back
for
weeks
or
months
,
for
the
tractor
is
dead
.
And
this
is
easy
and
efficient
.
So
easy
that
the
wonder
goes
out
of
work
,
so
efficient
that
the
wonder
goes
out
of
land
and
the
working
of
it
,
and
with
the
wonder
the
deep
understanding
and
the
relation
.
And
in
the
tractor
man
there
grows
the
contempt
that
comes
only
to
a
stranger
who
has
little
understanding
and
no
relation
.
For
nitrates
are
not
the
land
,
nor
phosphates
;
and
the
length
of
fiber
in
the
cotton
is
not
the
land
.
Carbon
is
not
a
man
,
nor
salt
nor
water
nor
calcium
.
He
is
all
these
,
but
he
is
much
more
,
much
more
;
and
the
land
is
so
much
more
than
its
analysis
.
The
man
who
is
more
than
his
chemistry
,
walking
on
the
earth
,
turning
his
plow
point
for
a
stone
,
dropping
his
handles
to
slide
over
an
outcropping
,
kneeling
in
the
earth
to
eat
his
lunch
;
that
man
who
is
more
than
his
elements
knows
the
land
that
is
more
than
its
analysis
.
But
the
machine
man
,
driving
a
dead
tractor
on
land
he
does
not
know
and
love
,
understands
only
chemistry
;
and
he
is
contemptuous
of
the
land
and
of
himself
.
When
the
corrugated
iron
doors
are
shut
,
he
goes
home
,
and
his
home
is
not
the
land
.
THE
DOORS
of
the
empty
houses
swung
open
,
and
drifted
back
and
forth
in
the
wind
.
Bands
of
little
boys
came
out
from
the
towns
to
break
the
windows
and
to
pick
over
the
debris
,
looking
for
treasures
.
And
here
’
s
a
knife
with
half
the
blade
gone
.
That
’
s
a
good
thing
.
And
—
smells
like
a
rat
died
here
.
And
look
what
Whitey
wrote
on
the
wall
.
He
wrote
that
in
the
toilet
in
school
,
too
,
an
’
teacher
made
’
im
wash
it
off
.
When
the
folks
first
left
,
and
the
evening
of
the
first
day
came
,
the
hunting
cats
slouched
in
from
the
fields
and
mewed
on
the
porch
.
And
when
no
one
came
out
,
the
cats
crept
through
the
open
doors
and
walked
mewing
through
the
empty
rooms
.
And
then
they
went
back
to
the
fields
and
were
wild
cats
from
then
on
,
hunting
gophers
and
field
mice
,
and
sleeping
in
ditches
in
the
daytime
When
the
night
came
,
the
bats
,
which
had
stopped
at
the
doors
for
fear
of
light
,
swooped
into
the
houses
and
sailed
through
the
empty
rooms
,
and
in
a
little
while
they
stayed
in
dark
room
corners
during
the
day
,
folded
their
wings
high
,
and
hung
head
-
down
among
the
rafters
,
and
the
smell
of
their
droppings
was
in
the
empty
houses
.
And
the
mice
moved
in
and
stored
weed
seeds
in
corners
,
in
boxes
,
in
the
backs
of
drawers
in
the
kitchens
.
And
weasels
came
in
to
hunt
the
mice
,
and
the
brown
owls
flew
shrieking
in
and
out
again
.
Now
there
came
a
little
shower
.
The
weeds
sprang
up
in
front
of
the
doorstep
,
where
they
had
not
been
allowed
,
and
grass
grew
up
through
the
porch
boards
.
The
houses
were
vacant
,
and
a
vacant
house
falls
quickly
apart
.
Splits
started
up
the
sheathing
from
the
rusted
nails
.
A
dust
settled
on
the
floors
,
and
only
mouse
and
weasel
and
cat
tracks
disturbed
it
.
One
night
the
wind
loosened
a
shingle
and
flipped
it
to
the
ground
.
The
next
wind
pried
into
the
hole
where
the
shingle
had
been
,
lifted
off
three
,
and
the
next
,
a
dozen
.
The
midday
sun
burned
through
the
hole
and
threw
a
glaring
spot
on
the
floor
.
The
wild
cats
crept
in
from
the
fields
at
night
,
but
they
did
not
mew
at
the
doorstep
any
more
.
They
moved
like
shadows
of
a
cloud
across
the
room
,
into
the
rooms
to
hunt
the
mice
.
And
on
windy
nights
the
doors
banged
,
and
the
ragged
curtains
fluttered
in
the
broken
windows
.
