Chapter 5 - Page 47 - Building A Village

   Jim could tell that the driller didn’t know who he was. “I’m Jim Brown,” he said. “I own this land. Do you have some kind of sprinkler system that you could put on the back of your water truck?”

   “Yes sir, we have a bar that goes across the back of the truck, and the truck has a pump.”

   “Good. I’d like your driver to spray the dirt road down so it won’t be so dusty,” Jim said, then added when the driller hesitated, “Don’t worry, I’ll pay extra for it.”

   The driller brightened. “OK. We need this next load of water, but I’ll send him back to get some more.”

   “Where is he getting water from?” Jim asked.

   “He’s loading at the river. We have a pump down there.”

   Jim nodded. He thanked the driller and got back in the jeep. “Fishman,” he said, “let’s go to the hotel, but take it slow.”

   As Fishman drove them slowly through the construction site, Jim counted eight fires blazing. Dust and smoke filled the air. Several workers had covered their noses and mouths with pieces of torn rags. As they passed through the wooded area, Jim saw workers chopping away at the undergrowth while others dragged the brush over to pile it on a trailer.

   Jim and Fishman had very little to say to each other as the jeep turned left onto the main road and sped up to fifty miles per hour. When they got to the hotel, Jim left Fishman in the jeep while he went to his room, packed his bags, and went down to the main desk to check out. On the way back to the construction site, Jim had Fishman pull into a local