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151 pages, Paperback
First published April 1, 1964
[W]hen I had nothing else to do I would put a place together, every single thing in place, then bit by bit I’d recall the folks I’d known there and what was said—what we talked about, and the like … When a man sets out to recall in detail as I did, he sets more to working than he’s figured on, for he never looks at any thing after that without thinking how he’ll recall it in time to come. It also sets a man to thinking about himself, and when a man stands himself up to ponder at, he can’t always be pleased at what he sees.”Here Proto and Eddie talk about the land:
Along in the late afternoon, we pulled up on a ridge near the head of Wolf Creek, and looked down the valley of the Tongue.
“It’s a fair land,” Eddie said softly, “a fair, wild land.”
“It is that,” I agreed.
The bright glare was gone, the shadows softening the distance, and the coolness of evening was coming on. Far off an eagle soared against the sky … soon he’d be leaving the sky to the owls and the bats. I saw a gray wolf loping along through the trees, head down, nose reaching out for the scent of game.
We sat motionless and not talking, just taking in the peace of springtime.