The White Feather Hex

A strong, wiry man he was--his arms were knotted sections of solidhickory forming themselves into gnarled hands and twisted stubs offingers. His furrowed brow, dried by the sun and cracked in a millionplaces by the wind was well irrigated by long rivulets of sweat. When hewent forth in the fields behind his horse and plow, it wasn't longbefore his hair was plastered down firmly to his scalp. The salty waterpoured out of the deep rings in his ruddy neck and ran down his darkbrown back. As he grew