A Land Broken by War

We traveled mostly west, though varying slightly as Haig dictated. Haig knew these areas, not as well as he did the forests, he said, but he had been out here and had a fairly certain idea where we might discover some people. I followed him loyally trusting in his judgment as I had hitherto done.

We traveled until the sun was high in the sky and beating down on us with such intensity that I felt as though my body were aflame! I searched the sky many times, begging the gods for a cloud to shelter us, if only briefly, but never receiving it. Finally we stopped. Haig bent to the ground and began digging at the dry soil.

"What are you doing?" I managed to rasp through parched lips (for the Maikin had given us canteens of water, made from stomachs of goats, by all appearance, but we had rationed them for ourselves).

"I'm digging for dark dirt. When it's dark it means that it's a little moister. You need to do it too." He demanded, "when you find - oh like this!" He held up a handful of dark dirt. "Spit in it to make a little mud, and then rub it under your eyes." He demonstrated. "It's a trick my father showed me. It keeps the sun from glaring off of your cheeks - keeps you from going blind out here."

I followed his directions and dug for the dirt. I held it in my hand and endeavored to spit in it. It took me four attempts to produce enough moisture to make mud. When Haig saw that I had done it he arose and began walking again, and I followed him.