Ploughing 9 



and their kind — still they are not to be 

 named beside the mysterious danger of " dew- 

 poison," which takes ofFthe skin with a touch, 

 and leaves a deep, angry sore. 



Happily it is rare, but the fear of it had 

 made the ploughmen go shod, and grease their 

 mules well above the ankles, with neat's foot 

 oil. The mules were all unshod, and har- 

 nessed to a nicety, with collars beaten smooth 

 inside, back-bands exactly true, chin-straps 

 easy, and hames firmly tied. On top of all 

 came the leather nets — which were not prop- 

 erly nets at all, but fringes of long leather 

 strings, swung from a stouter string, and fall- 

 ing down either side from the ears, to the 

 roots of the tail. Swinging back and forth 

 they kept off the blood-suckers, flies, gnats, 

 and midges, that otherwise would have run 

 the poor beasts wild. 



Dan had really started both ploughs the 

 day before, first looking them over, and test- 

 ing every nut, bolt, and bar, to make sure 

 they were fully land-worthy. They were 

 left-hand ploughs, with steel shares, and weed- 

 coulters, and light iron guide-wheels support- 

 ing their heavy beams. He had run half a 

 dozen furrows with each, then cleaned it 

 carefully, and turned it upside down, so the 

 dew might not fall upon the scoured share. 

 Dew would not rust the shares in a single 



