At the Furrow – Short Story

At the Furrow

A Short Story by Elin Pelin. Translated by Cathy Kostova

It rained all Sunday! Quietly, softly, day in and day out. It rained without stop – it watered mother Earth, then a gentle breeze blew and cleared the sky. The warm autumn sun shone across the fields. The soil dried up just enough. The weather was perfect for ploughing.

Bonney Endings harnessed Gracie and Whitey again, and set them off to draw the plough, with him behind, guiding the way. Bonney’s field was in a nice wide valley, windbreak by forests on all sides. The soil was dry and crumbly like sugar.

“Go on, come on guys, get going! ” – yelled Bonney, waving his goad. His voice echoed vividly through the forest.

Whitey, an old ox, wagged his tail and calmly walked on. Gracie, a thin cow, twice as little as Whitey, made the effort to walk alongside him.

And on they went, one bed, two beds, three beds… Bonney’s sad face brightened a little. He forgot his penury and whistled on.

“Hey, hold on, Whitey! Gracie can’t go as fast as you, boy.”

“Come on Gracie, come on little lady, come on love… You’re tired aren’t you. I’m tired too. But what can you do? Come on. Let’s move on. Go!”

Whitey being big and strong snorted and started walking tall like a nobleman.

Little Gracie tried with all her strength. Her mouth was open, her spine was bent and her thin tail was upright. Whitey stepped once – she stepped twice. Her tongue was sticking out but – she was walking.

No one else was around. It was quiet. The only sounds came from the tree leaves waving with the wind and the dry twigs under their feet.

“Come on Gracie, come on love!” – cried Bonney, watching with fear how his dear cow grew more and more tired, losing strength.

“OK, stop! Let’s rest for a bit”

The tired cattle stopped. Bonney walked up to them and started stroking their foreheads.

“Whitey, you exhausted our little lady. Right, Gracie?” – he started talking to them.

Whitey and Gracie looked at him calmly, with their big eyes, as they were breathing heavily. Foam was falling out of Gracie’s mouth. She looked at her white friend, then at her master, then down at the ground.

“What is it, love? Tell me, are you tired? Gracie, little lady. Your heart is crying, love. OK, let’s just get today done, tomorrow will be a holiday. We’ll rest all day… What are you looking at, big champ?” – Bonney continued narrating.

Gracie did not raise her head. Her master’s words were of no comfort to her ill heart. Her hollowed chest was beating strong and fast and her legs were trembling.

“Tell me, Gracie, little lady. What happened?” – Bonney continued fearfully, stroking her as if she was his child. Then he grabbed the plough and yelled: “Come on, let’s stretch our legs.”

Whitey made an effort and moved one step. Gracie also made an effort to join him, but couldn’t and he stopped.

“Let’s go! Come on, Come on!” – Bonney yelled with a cheerful voice.

The echo called back.

Whitey moved on again, Gracie made another effort but her legs shook, she dropped down into the yoke, and she mooed piteously.

Bonney threw his goad away, scared. He undid Whitey’s harness as fast as he could and knelled down in front of Gracie, discomposed. She was lying motionless, her head outstretched, her muffle buried in the dirt, her eyes were closed and she was breathing heavily.

“Come on Gracie, Get up!” – He freed her from the yoke and started pulling her by the horns.

Gracie barely opened her eyes, looked imploringly at her master as if she wanted to say to him: “Leave me to die in peace”, and again, her eyelids dropped.

Bonney started walking in circles around her, not knowing what to do.

The sun was shining high on the half-ploughed field. It alone watched from the sky and slowly bounced from noon to bending behind the moors. There was no one in sight. The forest was deaf.

“Come on, Gracie! Get up! Look, Whitey is laughing at you. Get up! Don’t joke, love… Look at the crumbly soil! It’s ready for ploughing! “

Bonney grabs the cow by her horns and slowly started pulling her up again. She made a last attempt to stand on her feet but she barely made a move. She dropped her head back on the crumbly ground and breathed even heavier.

Bonney sat in front of her, put her head on his lap and started stroking and kissing her forehead.

“Don’t do that, love. Have pity on me! Listen! This is the only field left. Let’s do that one and then we can rest… I will not harness you again, for the rest of your life. Your little Minnie will grow up and she will be helping Whitey. And you, you are going to lie in the barn all day long! The boys will be bringing you water in the white copper pot. Every morning they will brush you and feed you with milk and honey. You will get better, healthy and strong! Right, love? Then Minnie and Whitey will plough, and you will graze on the boundary string, you will be looking at them work and you will be smiling at them. And in the evenings, Minnie will come to you, lick your face and tell you “Good evening, mother!” Come on dear, get up, come on!”

But Gracie didn’t make a move, she didn’t even open her eyes. She was trembling feverish. Bonney got up, got a piece of bread, put some salt on it and held it to her mouth:

“Here, little lady, eat some!”

This time Gracie opened her eyes, looked tenderly at her master and closed them back again.

Bonney sighed desperately. He looked at the field, then at the silent forest, then at Whitey, who was grazing calmly on the boundary, then at the sun, and he realized he was alone. Help was coming from nowhere.

He turned back to the ill Gracie:

“Get up, love! Get up, cause the bear is in the woods, it will come and eat you!” – He was trying to scare her up her feet.

He went to the car and took an old blanket. He put it on his shoulders and entered the woods. Then he walked back to Gracie and started roaring like a bear and crawling on four legs.

“Roar!.. Aww…” – He was moving towards her.

She opened her eyes. Deep in her tormented pitiful gaze burned a furious terror. The animal raised her head and mooed desperately, but still could not get up.

Bonney threw the blanket away, stood despairingly over her, crossed himself, then wept.

Gracie mooed once more, opened her eyes fearfully and stopped breathing.

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.