(@3In certain parts of western Kansas the under-ground water is so far down that it cannot be pumped by hand, and if the wind does not blow so the wind-mill can pump it, there is no water.@1) Sometimes I think that cattle love the wind, the boisterous wind that raves and snorts and picks up soil to hurl it far and cast it in a roadside ditch. For I have seen cattle stand beside an empty water tank first with mild-mannered patience; later, restless, pawing, showering earth. I have lain awake hearing them while men rode fences all the night to see if they were breaking out. My anxious eyes have sought the great mill wheel, listless and still; my strained ears aching to catch a stirring of the wind. I have seen the days and nights make up a week when I would only sip a mouthful from the wooden pail, and found that mouthful hard to swallow. Yes, the cattle and I have known this maddening wait, not once, but so many times that gladly will I wipe away the dust a great wind brings, for I know it will lift cool water three hundred feet -- enough and plenty -- for millions of cattle to drink. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AT LULWORTH COVE A CENTURY BACK by THOMAS HARDY THE PLOUGHMAN by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES REBEL MOTHER'S LULLABY by SHANE LESLIE THE MOURNER A LA MODE by JOHN GODFREY SAXE DEEDS OF VALOR AT SANTIAGO by CLINTON SCOLLARD |