The men set off in silence. Pedro walked with his dog a few paces behind the boys. When neighbors saw them walking along in this formation they would say that Pedro looked like a veritable patron striding behind his peons. Yet there were mornings when Pedro talked to the boys in the course of their two-hour walk to the fields, giving advice or telling, what work had to be done. The boys, however, spoke only in answer to a question. Out of their father's earshot they would joke about their sweet hearts ox visits to the saloons of Cuahnahuac. But this morning they moved silently down the road.

It was still barely light. All around them, just beyond the far edges of the fields, the blue-green slopes of the pine-covered mountains rose through the morning mist, Pedro and Ricardo were headed for the mountain slope cornfield which they had cleared the year before. This was communal land belonging to the municipality which consisted of seven villages; anyone could work it. New clearings had to be made every two or three years, for heavy rains washed the top soil away. To acquire new fields Pedro and his sons burned the brush and weeds, cut down young trees, and built new stone fences. The boys worked well; they had the largest mountain clearing in Azteca. But the crops could supply enough corn and beans for only three or four months. So Pedro had to try other means of earning a living as well—making rope from maguey fiber, selling plums, hiring out his sons as farm-hands. One thing he would not do to earn money was to make charcoal for sale, as so many of his neighbors did. This practice, he knew, was wasteful of the precious oak and pine forests and ultimately ruined land. He had been one of the leaders in the struggle for the preservation of the communal forest lands. So he made charcoal only once a year and only for the use of his family.