The Land Breakers

by John Ehle

They knew what was expected of them now, and what could be expected of the work horse and of the chain and of the fires and ax, of all the tools and stock they used. The family was a machine of matching, meshed cogs. It was not that the family was making a machine that they could use; the family was the machine. The family and the clearing and the crops and the stock and the tools were part of the same thing. The family and the place were the same thing and could not be separated one from the other. One could not understand the family without knowing about the land and their work on it and plans for it, and one could not know the land with any real understanding without knowing this family of people. They were dusty with the land; the grit of the land was in them. Their work, which was done together, was the chief meaning of their family lives. “We’re making way here,” Mooney said. “Going to do well afore it’s over.”