stood unhaltered, gazing curiously, swishing at steel-blue flies. Sunlight filtered in through the rotten-straw roof, gleaming on the backs of the horses and the hock-deep slime in which they stood. With a kind of horror Block recalled that it had not rained in three days. He pushed himself back and, wiping his boots on a rank of weeds, called, “Three horses here—can’t be working on the field.”
Unger called, “He has four—he’s probably riding—” and even as the two came towards Block, they heard the running hoof-beats behind the barn. Block sighted a brood sowemerging from behind the house, rooting around the tree with her nosy following; then Herb galloped out of the poplars and strained his horse to a slithering stop at the pasture-gate. Glancing at the three men, the bachelor left his mount ground-tied, ducked through the gate, caught his shirt, tore it loose with a suppressed curse, and strode towards them, his face betraying no reaction at their visit.
The older men greeted him civilly. He merely said, “I was out in the pasture and heard the truck stop, so—” There was no mention what he had been doing. The Deacon, pondering, slid his glance past the streak of egg-yellow on Herb’s week-old whiskers to the horse, heaving in the shade. A rifle-butt protruded from the slung scabbard. A man didn’t go idly about shooting in weather like this! He turned to look at Unger.
The father said, “It’s about your fences, Herb. Your cows were in Wiens’s oats this morning—broke through on that bottom rail. They ruined about five acres.”
Herb’s face hardened swiftly, glance flicking from Block to Wiens. “Oh—you two come to talk to me in the good old Mennonite way, eh?” His mouth twisted in High German. ‘“If there be a division between two of you, discuss it calmly in the presence of a third party.’ ” He slumped back into Low German, “And since you still think I’m a boy, you had to bring Pa along. Now just you—”
“Wait,” Block broke in calmly, across Unger’s obvious defeat, “think before you holler. We came to straighten this out decently like any other—”
“You came to talk to me like I was a kid! I’m old enough to run my own place and nobody’s telling me—”
“Are you going to listen?” Herb glared at the Deacon for an instant, then dropped his glance. “If you’re old enough torun your own place, you obey the rules of the community. We all decided to have at least two strands of wire around every crop-field. Wiens has put up his strand—and all the posts besides, right?” Wiens nodded. “Then the least you can do is put up your wire.”
Flies buzzed on the hot metal of the truck. Herb muttered, sullen, “It’ll come back. Can’t have wrecked that much. And I haven’t got any money to get wire, so—”and he shrugged his shoulders.
Block felt rage rippling through him. No consideration for anyone: just chase his horses uselessly to death; just lie in the shade and uselessly shoot every cent away. The Deacon half heard Unger’s pleading voice, saw the sullenness shift to stubborn anger, and he turned quickly to Wiens, who had not yet opened his mouth. “How much wire for that field?”
“About a hundred rods.”
“Herb, I’ll give you that wire on account right now. You pay this when you clean up your other bills at the store with those hogs you told me the other day were soon ready for shipping. About two weeks?”
“There’s all sorts of things I have to do with that money. I can’t—” Much as it maddened him, Herb never could argue at length with the Deacon. The scathing replies would come, later, when he lay fuming on his blankets.
“You have to have this
now
. And get it done before the haying starts next week.” Even as he spoke, the Deacon realized that Herb, if always proven completely wrong in his actions towards others, could only harden in his antipathy towards those who levelled accusing fingers. The man needed
Unger called, “He has four—he’s probably riding—” and even as the two came towards Block, they heard the running hoof-beats behind the barn. Block sighted a brood sowemerging from behind the house, rooting around the tree with her nosy following; then Herb galloped out of the poplars and strained his horse to a slithering stop at the pasture-gate. Glancing at the three men, the bachelor left his mount ground-tied, ducked through the gate, caught his shirt, tore it loose with a suppressed curse, and strode towards them, his face betraying no reaction at their visit.
The older men greeted him civilly. He merely said, “I was out in the pasture and heard the truck stop, so—” There was no mention what he had been doing. The Deacon, pondering, slid his glance past the streak of egg-yellow on Herb’s week-old whiskers to the horse, heaving in the shade. A rifle-butt protruded from the slung scabbard. A man didn’t go idly about shooting in weather like this! He turned to look at Unger.
The father said, “It’s about your fences, Herb. Your cows were in Wiens’s oats this morning—broke through on that bottom rail. They ruined about five acres.”
Herb’s face hardened swiftly, glance flicking from Block to Wiens. “Oh—you two come to talk to me in the good old Mennonite way, eh?” His mouth twisted in High German. ‘“If there be a division between two of you, discuss it calmly in the presence of a third party.’ ” He slumped back into Low German, “And since you still think I’m a boy, you had to bring Pa along. Now just you—”
“Wait,” Block broke in calmly, across Unger’s obvious defeat, “think before you holler. We came to straighten this out decently like any other—”
“You came to talk to me like I was a kid! I’m old enough to run my own place and nobody’s telling me—”
“Are you going to listen?” Herb glared at the Deacon for an instant, then dropped his glance. “If you’re old enough torun your own place, you obey the rules of the community. We all decided to have at least two strands of wire around every crop-field. Wiens has put up his strand—and all the posts besides, right?” Wiens nodded. “Then the least you can do is put up your wire.”
Flies buzzed on the hot metal of the truck. Herb muttered, sullen, “It’ll come back. Can’t have wrecked that much. And I haven’t got any money to get wire, so—”and he shrugged his shoulders.
Block felt rage rippling through him. No consideration for anyone: just chase his horses uselessly to death; just lie in the shade and uselessly shoot every cent away. The Deacon half heard Unger’s pleading voice, saw the sullenness shift to stubborn anger, and he turned quickly to Wiens, who had not yet opened his mouth. “How much wire for that field?”
“About a hundred rods.”
“Herb, I’ll give you that wire on account right now. You pay this when you clean up your other bills at the store with those hogs you told me the other day were soon ready for shipping. About two weeks?”
“There’s all sorts of things I have to do with that money. I can’t—” Much as it maddened him, Herb never could argue at length with the Deacon. The scathing replies would come, later, when he lay fuming on his blankets.
“You have to have this
now
. And get it done before the haying starts next week.” Even as he spoke, the Deacon realized that Herb, if always proven completely wrong in his actions towards others, could only harden in his antipathy towards those who levelled accusing fingers. The man needed
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