A mourning dove had returned to him through snow, skifting over cold earth.

It settled on a limb and began dressing its plumage.

At that instant a wavering, "Coo coo a'gh coo," broke in sobbing notes from the deep wood.
Without paying the slightest heed, the dove finished a wing, ruffled and settled her feathers, and opened her bill in a human-like yawn.

The Harvester smiled.

The notes swelled closer in renewed pleading.