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- Фрэнк Норрис
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Annixter
,
whom
he
had
spoken
to
first
,
had
sent
him
across
the
ranch
to
one
of
his
division
superintendents
,
and
this
latter
,
after
assuring
himself
of
Vanamee
’
s
familiarity
with
horses
and
his
previous
experience
—
even
though
somewhat
remote
—
on
Los
Muertos
,
had
taken
him
on
as
a
driver
of
one
of
the
gang
ploughs
,
then
at
work
on
his
division
.
The
evening
before
,
when
the
foreman
had
blown
his
whistle
at
six
o
’
clock
,
the
long
line
of
ploughs
had
halted
upon
the
instant
,
and
the
drivers
,
unharnessing
their
teams
,
had
taken
them
back
to
the
division
barns
—
leaving
the
ploughs
as
they
were
in
the
furrows
.
But
an
hour
after
daylight
the
next
morning
the
work
was
resumed
.
After
breakfast
,
Vanamee
,
riding
one
horse
and
leading
the
others
,
had
returned
to
the
line
of
ploughs
together
with
the
other
drivers
.
Now
he
was
busy
harnessing
the
team
.
At
the
division
blacksmith
shop
—
temporarily
put
up
—
he
had
been
obliged
to
wait
while
one
of
his
lead
horses
was
shod
,
and
he
had
thus
been
delayed
quite
five
minutes
.
Nearly
all
the
other
teams
were
harnessed
,
the
drivers
on
their
seats
,
waiting
for
the
foreman
’
s
signal
.
“
All
ready
here
?
”
inquired
the
foreman
,
driving
up
to
Vanamee
’
s
team
in
his
buggy
.
“
All
ready
,
sir
,
”
answered
Vanamee
,
buckling
the
last
strap
.
He
climbed
to
his
seat
,
shaking
out
the
reins
,
and
turning
about
,
looked
back
along
the
line
,
then
all
around
him
at
the
landscape
inundated
with
the
brilliant
glow
of
the
early
morning
.
The
day
was
fine
.
Since
the
first
rain
of
the
season
,
there
had
been
no
other
.
Now
the
sky
was
without
a
cloud
,
pale
blue
,
delicate
,
luminous
,
scintillating
with
morning
.
The
great
brown
earth
turned
a
huge
flank
to
it
,
exhaling
the
moisture
of
the
early
dew
.
The
atmosphere
,
washed
clean
of
dust
and
mist
,
was
translucent
as
crystal
.
Far
off
to
the
east
,
the
hills
on
the
other
side
of
Broderson
Creek
stood
out
against
the
pallid
saffron
of
the
horizon
as
flat
and
as
sharply
outlined
as
if
pasted
on
the
sky
.
The
campanile
of
the
ancient
Mission
of
San
Juan
seemed
as
fine
as
frost
work
.
All
about
between
the
horizons
,
the
carpet
of
the
land
unrolled
itself
to
infinity
.
But
now
it
was
no
longer
parched
with
heat
,
cracked
and
warped
by
a
merciless
sun
,
powdered
with
dust
.
The
rain
had
done
its
work
;
not
a
clod
that
was
not
swollen
with
fertility
,
not
a
fissure
that
did
not
exhale
the
sense
of
fecundity
.
One
could
not
take
a
dozen
steps
upon
the
ranches
without
the
brusque
sensation
that
underfoot
the
land
was
alive
;
roused
at
last
from
its
sleep
,
palpitating
with
the
desire
of
reproduction
.
Deep
down
there
in
the
recesses
of
the
soil
,
the
great
heart
throbbed
once
more
,
thrilling
with
passion
,
vibrating
with
desire
,
offering
itself
to
the
caress
of
the
plough
,
insistent
,
eager
,
imperious
.
Dimly
one
felt
the
deep
-
seated
trouble
of
the
earth
,
the
uneasy
agitation
of
its
members
,
the
hidden
tumult
of
its
womb
,
demanding
to
be
made
fruitful
,
to
reproduce
,
to
disengage
the
eternal
renascent
germ
of
Life
that
stirred
and
struggled
in
its
loins
.
The
ploughs
,
thirty
-
five
in
number
,
each
drawn
by
its
team
of
ten
,
stretched
in
an
interminable
line
,
nearly
a
quarter
of
a
mile
in
length
,
behind
and
ahead
of
Vanamee
.
They
were
arranged
,
as
it
were
,
en
echelon
,
not
in
file
—
not
one
directly
behind
the
other
,
but
each
succeeding
plough
its
own
width
farther
in
the
field
than
the
one
in
front
of
it
.
Each
of
these
ploughs
held
five
shears
,
so
that
when
the
entire
company
was
in
motion
,
one
hundred
and
seventy
-
five
furrows
were
made
at
the
same
instant
.
At
a
distance
,
the
ploughs
resembled
a
great
column
of
field
artillery
.
Each
driver
was
in
his
place
,
his
glance
alternating
between
his
horses
and
the
foreman
nearest
at
hand
.
Other
foremen
,
in
their
buggies
or
buckboards
,
were
at
intervals
along
the
line
,
like
battery
lieutenants
.
Annixter
himself
,
on
horseback
,
in
boots
and
campaign
hat
,
a
cigar
in
his
teeth
,
overlooked
the
scene
.
The
division
superintendent
,
on
the
opposite
side
of
the
line
,
galloped
past
to
a
position
at
the
head
.
For
a
long
moment
there
was
a
silence
.
A
sense
of
preparedness
ran
from
end
to
end
of
the
column
.
All
things
were
ready
,
each
man
in
his
place
.
The
day
’
s
work
was
about
to
begin
.
