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Page 58
Carley climbed on the fence and sat there while Glenn leaned over the top
pole and began to wax eloquent on a subject evidently dear to his heart.
Today of all days Carley made an inspiring listener. Even the shiny, muddy,
suspicious old sow in no wise daunted her fictitious courage. That filthy
pen of mud a foot deep, and of odor rancid, had no terrors for her. With an
arm round Glenn's shoulder she watched the rooting and squealing little
pigs, and was amused and interested, as if they were far removed from the
vital issue of the hour. But all the time as she looked and laughed, and
encouraged Glenn to talk, there seemed to be a strange, solemn, oppressive
knocking at her heart. Was it only the beat-beat-beat of blood?
"There were twelve pigs in that litter," Glenn was saying, "and now you see
there are only nine. I've lost three. Mountain lions, bears, coyotes, wild
cats are all likely to steal a pig. And at first I was sure one of these
varmints had been robbing me. But as I could not find any tracks, I knew I
had to lay the blame on something else. So I kept watch pretty closely in
daytime, and at night I shut the pigs up in the corner there, where you see
I've built a pen. Yesterday I heard squealing--and, by George! I saw an
eagle flying off with one of my pigs. Say, I was mad. A great old
bald-headed eagle--the regal bird you see with America's stars and stripes
had degraded himself to the level of a coyote. I ran for my rifle, and I
took some quick shots at him as he flew up. Tried to hit him, too, but I
failed. And the old rascal hung on to my pig. I watched him carry it to
that sharp crag way up there on the rim."
"Poor little piggy!" exclaimed Carley. "To think of our American emblem--our
stately bird of noble warlike mien--our symbol of lonely grandeur and
freedom of the heights--think of him being a robber of pigpens!--Glenn, I
begin to appreciate the many-sidedness of things. Even my hide-bound
narrowness is susceptible to change. It's never too late to learn. This
should apply to the Society for the Preservation of the American Eagle."
Glenn led her along the base of the wall to three other pens, in each of
which was a fat old sow with a litter. And at the last enclosure, that
owing to dry soil was not so dirty, Glenn picked up a little pig and held
it squealing out to Carley as she leaned over the fence. It was fairly
white and clean, a little pink and fuzzy, and certainly cute with its
curled tall.
"Carley Burch, take it in your hands," commanded Glenn.
The feat seemed monstrous and impossible of accomplishment for Carley. Yet
such was her temper at the moment that she would have undertaken anything.
"Why, shore I will, as Flo says," replied Carley, extending her ungloved
hands. "Come here, piggy. I christen you Pinky." And hiding an almost
insupportable squeamishness from Glenn, she took the pig in her hands and
fondled it.
"By George!" exclaimed Glenn, in huge delight. "I wouldn't have believed
it. Carley, I hope you tell your fastidious and immaculate Morrison that
you held one of my pigs in your beautiful hands."
"Wouldn't it please you more to tell him yourself?" asked Carley.
"Yes, it would," declared Glenn, grimly.
This incident inspired Glenn to a Homeric narration of his hog-raising
experience. In spite of herself the content of his talk interested her. And
as for the effect upon her of his singular enthusiasm, it was deep and
compelling. The little-boned Berkshire razorback hogs grew so large and fat
and heavy that their bones broke under their weight. The Duroc jerseys were
the best breed in that latitude, owing to their larger and stronger bones,
that enabled them to stand up under the greatest accumulation of fat.
Glenn told of his droves of pigs running wild in the canyon below. In
summertime they fed upon vegetation, and at other seasons on acorns, roots,
bugs, and grubs. Acorns, particularly, were good and fattening feed. They
ate cedar and juniper berries, and pinyon nuts. And therefore they lived
off the land, at little or no expense to the owner. The only loss was from
beasts and birds of prey. Glenn showed Carley how a profitable business
could soon be established. He meant to fence off side canyons and to
segregate droves of his hogs, and to raise abundance of corn for winter
feed. At that time there was a splendid market for hogs, a condition Hutter
claimed would continue indefinitely in a growing country. In conclusion
Glenn eloquently told how in his necessity he had accepted gratefully the
humblest of labors, to find in the hard pursuit of it a rejuvenation of
body and mind, and a promise of independence and prosperity.
When he had finished, and excused himself to go repair a weak place in the
corral fence, Carley sat silent, wrapped in strange meditation.
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