The land was leased now-as was most of the surrounding range-to cattle companies. In the last half mile before we reached the creek, David counted fifty Hereford bulls and remarked that the lessees seemed to be overgrazing. “The sons of bitches,” he said. “That’s way too many for this time of year.” Noticing some uranium claim stakes, he said, “People stake illegally right over land that has been deeded nearly a century.” Over tl1e low and widespread house, John Love’s multilaminate roof was scarcely sagging. No one had lived there in nearly forty years. The bookcases and the rolltop desk had been removed by thieves, who had destroyed doorframes to get them out. The kitchen doorframe was intact, and nailed there still was zakelijke energie vergelijken the board that showed John Love’s marks recording his children’s height. The green-figured wallpaper that had been hung by the cowboys was long since totally gone, and much of what it had covered, but between the studs and against the pine siding were fragments of the newspapers pasted there as insulation.
Fugitives Are Desperate, but Running Fight Is Expected to End in Their Capture
Spinach had run wild in the yard. In the blacksmith shop, the forge and the anvil were gone. Ducks flew up from the creek. There were dead English currant bushes. A Chinese elm was dead. A Russian olive was still alive. David had planted a number of these trees. There was a balm of Gilead broadleaf cottonwood he had planted when he was eleven years old. “It’s going to make it for another year anyway,” he said. “It’s going to leaf out.” I said I wondered why the only trees anywhere were those that he and his father had planted. “Not enough moisture,” he replied. “Trees never have grown here.” “What does ‘never’ mean?” I asked him. He said, “The last ten thousand years.” An antelope, barking at us, sounded like a bullfrog. Of the zakelijke energie dozen or so ranch buildings, some were missing and some were breaking down. The corrals had collapsed.