chapter 1

A FEW MILES south of Soledad, the Salinas River drops in close

to the hillside bank and runs deep and green. The water is warm

too, for it has slipped twinkling over the yellow sands in the

sunlight before reaching the narrow pool. On one side of the river

the golden foothill slopes curve up to the strong and rocky Gabilan

mountains, but on the valley side the water is lined with trees -

willows fresh and green with every spring, carrying in their lower

leaf junctures the debris of the winter’s flooding; and sycamores

with mottled, white, recumbent limbs and branches that arch over

the pool. On the sandy bank under the trees the leaves lie deep

and so crisp that a lizard makes a great skittering if he runs

among them. Rabbits come out of the brush to sit on the sand in

the evening, and the damp flats are covered with the night tracks

of ’coons, and with the spread pads of dogs from the ranches, and

with the split-wedge tracks of deer that come to drink in the dark.

There is a path through the willows and among the sycamores, a

path beaten hard by boys coming down from the ranches to swim

in the deep pool, and beaten hard by tramps who come wearily

down from the highway in the evening to jungle-up near water. In

front of the low horizontal limb of a giant sycamore there is an ash

pile made by many fires; the limb is worn smooth by men who

have sat on it.

Evening of a hot day started the little wind to moving among the

leaves. The shade climbed up the hills toward the top. On the sand

banks the rabbits sat as quietly as little gray, sculptured stones.

And then from the direction of the state highway came the sound

of footsteps on crisp sycamore leaves. The rabbits hurried

noiselessly for cover. A stilted heron labored up into the air and.

pounded down river. For a moment the place was lifeless, and

then two men emerged from the path and came into the opening

by the green pool.

They had walked in single file down the path, and even in the

open one stayed behind the other. Both were dressed in denim

trousers and in denim coats with brass buttons. Both wore black,

shapeless hats and both carried tight blanket rolls slung over

their shoulders. The first man was small and quick, dark of face,

with restless eyes and sharp, strong features. Every part of him

was defined: small, strong hands, slender arms, a thin and bony

nose. Behind him walked his opposite, a huge man, shapeless of

face, with large, pale eyes, with wide, sloping shoulders; and he

walked heavily, dragging his feet a little, the way a bear drags his

paws. His arms did not swing at his sides, but hung loosely.

The first man stopped short in the clearing, and the follower

nearly ran over him. He took off his hat and wiped the sweat-band

with his forefinger and snapped the moisture off. His huge

companion dropped his blankets and flung himself down and

drank from the surface of the green pool; drank with long gulps,

snorting into the water like a horse. The small man stepped

nervously beside him.

"Lennie!" he said sharply. "Lennie, for God’ sakes don’t drink so

much." Lennie continued to snort into the pool. The small man

leaned over and shook him by the shoulder. "Lennie. You gonna be

sick like you was last night."

Lennie dipped his whole head under, hat and all, and then he sat

up on the bank and his hat dripped down on his blue coat and ran

down his back. "Tha’s good," he said. "You drink some, George.

You take a good big drink." He smiled happily.

George unslung his bindle and dropped it gently on the bank. "I

ain’t sure it’s good water," he said. "Looks kinda scummy."

Lennie dabb1ed his big paw in the water and wiggled his fingers.

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