Queer, now. One while I is with gleaning in of I, which after is no gleaning follow, where-by all is quiet in I. Yet other whiles I is with gleaning and an other is come by that is as like to it, which after many gleanings follow in a line, as with I’s people walking neath of trees. They gleanings come that many and that quick as there is not a thing in tween of they. One gleaning comes an other, as with pigs and logs.
I glean of mother hit I’s legs, yet now I is with glean as I is lie by she and all is good. Back of I’s big head lie on dirt, where is a rub of grits and dusts. They prickle on I’s head skin through I’s babe-hair, no more as is on a berry. All in mouth of I is titty-milk as hang in strings bout of I’s tongue, and there is not a thing in middle of I wants to run ways off, nor that is wanting of an other where.
I is in low of blanket-skins, by mother, warm in sniff of she, she’s breath with sour-root in. She big, I little as one of they Urk-kine.
Now is other glean in of I, where-in is I come big, I’s mother come more little now. We is in neath of trees. First bright is come and I is open eyes and see I’s mother, set with back gainst of a white-wood tree. Is little bits of bright fall now there on she face through branches bove of we, and on she eyes, and move she not nor is she look from bright. Say I now, Mother, come a-rise, yet is she not make move, she’s eyes full up with bits of bright. A fright is come in I.
Hold, Mother, say I now. Do not make queer with I. We’s people is rise up and want for journey on. Rise, that we may not fall in hind of they. Rub now I’s hand there on she leg for making quick of she. She is more cold as stones, and itchy-mites jump off she.
I is say more loud, rise up, and now take hold of she for pull and hit. There is no strong in hold of I, and down she fall. They bits of bright is move from out she eyes and hang on trees. She’s head is lie in rain-hole, hair a-float.
I glean not how to help of she. Jump I on top she there and make to put I’s will with-in of she, that he make she not cold, and make she for to move. She legs is hard, set one by other, knee on knee. There is not strong in I for open they, and is I’s will stand not. I lie he soft gainst of she belly-hair, and push, and push. She’s head in rain-hole move. She belly hair is cold, and sniff of she is other. Push and push.
A man is come now, of we’s people, and he pulls I off from she. He says I is as shit and makes for hit of I, where is I little ways run off, in neath of trees. Now many people is they come a-bout I’s mother. Pull they up she’s head from rain-hole now and say, there is no warm in she, there is no breath in she, and like. Now is we’s Gleaner-man come there, and by I’s mother set, in feather belt that itch up arse of he, where is he all whiles scratch.
Say he, she is no more alive, and it is work as makes she come that way, by look. Say he, lie she to dirt, which after journeys we ways off.
Up says a rough-mouth woman now that if I’s mother is no more alive, it is she’s idle son as makes she like to this, that make she all whiles work and find for he. And many there is saying Aye, and she is right and like.
More loud say rough-mouth woman now how if I’s mother is put down to dirt, it is not rough-mouth’s hole for dig. Aye, is say man as pulls I off I’s mother. Make boy dig she down to dirt, that he is work for she one while. Now Gleaner-man says Aye, and scratch at arse of he. Find boy, he say.
Make I to run. Ah, they is men, more long in leg as I, and I is that a-fright as runs at briar bush and falls there in. Out is they pull I, all a-scratch, for drag to feather-arse, as sets by mother. Down in wet she’s head is lie. They bits of bright is crawl slow off from tree, cross grass and back in of she’s eyes.
He scratch at arse and give I mother’s axe-stone, that there is no strongness in I’s hands for hold. Down is it fall, and Gleaner-man is hit I’s face that blood come out from nose of I. Now take it up, say he, and dig she hole. That queer-sniff spirits is not come to she and in they’s breath make sick of we. That rot-bird and rot-dog come not. That dirt is take dirt’s due and is glean good of we, that he is not come hard low of we’s feet. So Gleaner-man say now, and, licking nose-blood, digs I hard in dirt.
In low of grass is dirt cold, grey and soft as I may push all of one bit. Digs I a-bout of
root and stone, and dig of I is slow. They sun-brights is come back on mother’s face, off cheek of she and slow ways off in tween of grass and flowers. Lift I a stone, and neath of he is many worm. Dig I now sharp of mother’s axe-stone tween of they, and of they many make more many yet. I blood I’s fingers in I’s digging. Blood on mother’s stone, now. Blood in mother’s hole.
I’s people stand they bout of hole on one foot, now on other, wanting but that they is go ways off from here, that they is on with they’s big round and walking edge of world a-bout from ice-while on to ice-while, finding prickle-rat, and pig, and chewing-root.
Sun walk high bove of we, with sky-beasts run a-fore of he, in fright that he may hot they all a-ways to no thing only sky. I dig, and Gleaner-man come vexed at slow of I and say hold now, and say as low of hole is good, and like, yet is I not but belly-low in hole. Say he, jump out and cast she down.
Out comes I, grey to knees with dirt, and look to she. No thing but white. No thing but bare, and quick is all go out from she. Take I one tread, at which an other follow. Grey like dirt she’s hair. Make quick of it, say feather-arse, and come now, take she up, and like. Takes I an other tread, and this way come she by.
Stoop, for to take she’s foot. She is more cold now, and no bright is on she. Lift I mother’s legs, all white on top, and see that neath of she is dark, as full with blood. Pulls I, at which move she a little ways from rain-hole, dragging hair like water-grass in hind of she, and makes a fart. Like to this is we come by hole, I and I’s mother. Cast she in, say feather-arse, and cover up of she.
I cast she in. There is not bigness in of hole for she. One leg stand up, in bove of edge, that I may not push down. I cover she, and grey I’s hands in dirt, that dirt fall in she’s eyes, in mouth, in belly-hole, and now she’s face is go, and now she’s arms and titties go, and now is she but one white foot stand out, which puts I dirt a-bout, and push it soft and grey to toes of she. Tread I down dirt, and feather-arse set mother’s axe-stone by of hole, at other edge from where dirt rise bout of she’s foot, like to a piss-mite’s hill.
Say I, now she is put to dirt, and we may journey on for find of prickle-rat, and pig, and chewing-root. And now I’s people look an other way, and is with quiet in they. And now at I, old feather-arse, he makes an eye. And shake he’s head.
And sign for no.
All lone set I by mother’s foot. I’s people is not by I now, and far ways off is they, neath trees and cross of hill, and go, and come here back no more. Grey dirt on of I’s hands and feet is dry, hard, as I may scratch off in little bits. Dirt that I push a-bout of mother’s foot is like come hard, and bits fall off. I see she toes, and now in dirt as fall from they, I see a shape as like to no-toes. Mother.
Now an other gleaning is with I, in which a dark he come and I is set by mother’s foot with not a where for journey to. All whiles is I with mother, and is not with want for go way from she now, and yet a hurt is in I’s belly as say other like to this. Set I there whiles and glean not if to go nor keep here by.
Stand I, walk I ways off and back, now set, now more to stand and walk. Jump I on dirt, and hit I tree and tear of grass, and many things is say at mother’s foot. Set I and move I not, and off in dark is noise of fire-tail dog in grass, and herd-dogs cross of hills. A-fright is I, and hurt in belly is come more. Make I a shit by tree, in tween of roots, and shit is like to water.
First bright come, and belly empty. Say I, foot, keep here by. I is go ways off for forage, after which come I here back with food for we. Now foot is quiet, as if for say that she is all whiles hearing like to this, yet no whiles sees it’s doing. Walks I slow from she, and many trees off stop, and look I back, and there is foot. Lift arm of I and sign for all is good, and walk I on.
Trees come more little tween of they, and briar is come more. I follows path in bout of briar, where looks I back and sees not foot, but may I find she yet by sniffing shit of I, and I is not with fright. Walk on, through tree, and briar, and like.
As gleans I now, it is while I is come on blood-berries as first rain fall, hard like to many sky-beasts all a-piss. Quick stoop I neath of hole in berry-bush, and come there in, where is a briar-cave. There set I dry, and many of they blood-berries is eat. Out of I’s cave is rain fall hard, yet in of he is quiet and little bright, and in I’s belly is there good. Now rub I berry-blood off chin. Shut eyes, lick hand, and hear to rain.
Now is a while in which no gleanings come, which after all comes queer. I is no more in briar-cave. I is in neath of trees, and all is dark but where white-wood stands bright. How dark is come that quick I may not glean, nor how that is I come here by. All in a fright looks I a-bout, and see a shape as stands in tween of trees. It is I’s mother. Lolls she with one hand to tree and looks to I. It is that good I tread more by of she, and seeing now she’s leg, and one of they is come to bloody string, with not a thing low of she’s turning-bone. Look I from stump to mother’s face. She’s look is vexed, as is she with no liking for I. Where is go I’s foot, she say.
At this, makes I a fright-noise, big and loud as casts I up in sky and out from dark, and falls I back in briar-cave, where is yet light. All in a quick is this, that I may glean not way of it. Hear I not rain, as he is go ways off, and stands I up and stoop in neath of hole, and like to this come out from bush.