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@@@@@ They staggered down the river after him, pitching and falling, and reeling on againAt a turn in the stream they could see for several hundred yards, and far in the distance Wilson's body was just disappearing around a bend"C'mon, we gotta catch him," Ridges said weaklyHe took a step and fell forward on his face in the waterHe got up very slowly, and then began to walk again They came to the other bend and stoppedThe stream spread out into a swamp beyond the turnThere was a thin ribbon of water in the middle and bog land on either sideWilson had washed into it, was lost somewhere in the foliage and swampIt would take days to find him if he did not sink "Oh," Goldstein said, "he's lost "Yeah," Ridges mumbledHe took a step forward and stumbled in the water once moreIt felt pleasant lapping against his face, and he had no desire to stand up"Come on," Goldstein said Ridges began to weepHe struggled to a sitting position, and cried with his head on his folded arms, the water swirling around his hips and feetGoldstein stood over him tottering "Mother-fuggin sonofabitch," Ridges mumbledIt was the first time he had cursed since childhood, and the words pulled out of his chest one by one, leaving behind a vacuum of anger and bitternessWilson would not have his burial, but somehow that was not important nowWhat counted was that he had carried this burden through such distances of space and time, and it had washed away in the endAll his life he had labored without repayment; his grandfather and his father and he had struggled with bleak crops and unending povertyWhat had their work come to? "What profit hath man of all his labour wherein he laboureth under the sun?" The line came back to himIt was a part of the Bible he had always hat