It lay on a sunny hillside beyond the couch grass and joined a few small fields, the only cleared land of the six hundred acres of Medicine Woods.

Over rocks and little hills and hollows spread the pale, grayish-yellow of the green leaves, and from five to seven feet arose the flower stems, while the entire earth between was covered with rosettes of young plants.
Belshazzar went before to give warning if any big rattlers curled in the sun on the hillside, and after him followed the Harvester cutting leaves in heaps.

That was warm work and he covered his head with a floppy old straw hat, with wet grass in the crown, and stopped occasionally to rest.
He loved that yellow-faced hillside.

Because so much of his reaping lay in the shade and commonly his feet sank in dead leaves and damp earth, the change was a rest.

He cheerfully stubbed his toes on rocks, and endured the heat without complaint.