Part IV: Setting Out

About six o'clock the following morning, a boy of twelve was ridin g a carabao along the riverbed road to town. He was a very puny load on the carabao's broad back.
Walking close behind the carabao, the father accompanied him up to the bend of the river. When the beast hesitated in crossing the small rivulet that cut the road as it passed a clump of bamboos, the man picked up a stick and prodded the animal. Then he handed the stick to the boy, as one might give a precious gift.
The father did not cross the stream but only stood there by the bank. "Mind to look after the letter," he called out from where he was. "Do you have it there in your shirt pocket?"
The boy fumbled for it. When he found it, he said, "No, Tatay, I won't lose it."
"And take good care of the carabao," Lito added. "I'l go to town myself in a day or two, to get that carabao back. I just want to be through first with the planting."