The Thicket
“Even the peculiarities of the wagon wheel were now lost in the traffic marks on the road. Efrem had pretty much given us hoot-and-holler directions, some guesses, and a might-be. All he had told us that was solid was that some said they stayed beyond a sawmill back in the woods. But the Big Thicket is a lot of woods. And for that matter, there are a lot of sawmills gnawing through the country like rats through cotton.
Pretty soon we come upon one of those sawmills, and, stopping near it, we... watched the colored workers hack small limbs off logs with axes and take the big limbs off with a gasoline-driven saw that whined like a cooped-up child.
The man running the sawmill was a little white fellow. He was standing out front of a little shack built by the road. Even from a distance we saw what you would expect of an old sawmill man. He was missing some fingers. Two on his left hand, and on his right his forefinger and little finger were nubbed and yellowed at the tips.MoreLess
Pretty soon we come upon one of those sawmills, and, stopping near it, we... watched the colored workers hack small limbs off logs with axes and take the big limbs off with a gasoline-driven saw that whined like a cooped-up child.
The man running the sawmill was a little white fellow. He was standing out front of a little shack built by the road. Even from a distance we saw what you would expect of an old sawmill man. He was missing some fingers. Two on his left hand, and on his right his forefinger and little finger were nubbed and yellowed at the tips.MoreLess
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