Hey there, and welcome back to Animal Farm: The Novelization. Before I go on, I'd like to talk about two characters that I've come to enjoy writing about during the making of this story.
One of the characters that I'd enjoyed writing here is Squealer. I've decided to mix together his shrill skippy self from the book with the smarminess from the 1999 movie, the kind of smarminess that makes you want to make bacon and BBQ ribs out of him. Squealer having been voiced by the late Ian Holm (Bilbo Baggins from Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings) definitely helped. And maybe Benjamin too, since he's also combined like Squealer: being his usual morose self along with helping out more like in the 1954 movie, as well as some deadpan comments like in the 1999 movie.
And I bet some of you may have noticed that "Everything the light touches" part in the previous chapter. Why do I get the feeling that it can be made into a trope?
Uploading Date: October 22, 2021
Enjoy!
Chapter 5: Harvest Time
Sam and Boxer had heard from the ducks that they were to go to the hayfield and harvest the hay. Before they were to join the others and do so, they went back to check on Jessie and Bluebell. The two female dogs had settled in one of the stalls in the barn, laying upon the straw and keeping each other company.
"Are you going to be all right, you two?" asked Boxer, with the nature of a hen worrying for her chicks. "We can stay here and watch over you."
"Boxer, you and Sam go join the others," Jessie reassured him. "Don't worry about us; we'll be fine."
"After all, dogs have been having puppies long before us," added Bluebell with a weak chuckle, wincing when another contraction came.
Boxer lowered his head some more. "If you're sure..."
"Yes, we're sure," Jessie replied, giving the large horse a warm smile. "Go on now."
While Boxer did not look convinced, he merely nodded and plodded away. "Good luck, you two," he called over his shoulder. "I hope you two are well."
"Good luck, you two," Sam echoed Boxer's parting words. And with that, he followed the Clydesdale out of the farm and out to the fields.
Once the two were gone, Jessie and Bluebell prepared to hunker down and get ready for the birth, panting with pain and joy. Sooner or later, they would have new surprises for everyone on Animal Farm.
...
It was hard work to get the hay in, demanding lots of toil and sweat. But it was rewarding, for the harvest was more successful than they had thought. They had some difficulties along the way; the farm equipment was for human hands and not animals, and no animal could use any tool that involved standing on hind legs. But the pigs - being the smartest animals on the farm - would work their way around that. The horses themselves knew all the layout of the field, and they understood mowing and raking much better than either Jones or his farmhands.
The pigs themselves did not work, but they did direct and supervise the other animals. It was natural that they would be leaders given their knowledge of the farm. Boxer and Clover would harness themselves to either the cutter or the horse-rake and plod around the field, a pig just behind them going "Gee up, comrade!" or "Whoa back, comrade!". But every animal from the biggest to the smallest did work at turning the hay and gathering it. Even the ducks and hens worked hard as they carried tiny pieces of hay in their beaks.
In the end, they finished the harvest in two days, less than when Jones would finish. It was the biggest harvest that the farm had ever seen, whether with man or beast in charge. The ducks and hens had gathered up the very last stalk, so there was no wasted food. No one even stole a crumb, not even a mouse.
There were some difficulties. In the later part of the year, for example, they would have to tread out the harvested corn by blowing away the chaff with their breath. After all, the farm had no threshing machine. But thanks to the pigs' intelligence and Boxer's strength, they pulled through. Everyone admired Boxer. The Clydesdale had been a hard worker back in Jones's day, but he now seemed to have the power of three cart-horses rolled into one. Every morning until night. Boxer would push and pull, always at the place where the work was the hardest. He had arranged for one of the roosters to wake him up in the mornings half an hour earlier than the other animals and would then work behind the scenes before the real work of the day had begun.
"The solution to the problem," said Boxer one day whenever he faced a problem, "is to use all of my strength. And that's what I'll do. I will work harder." The last part of his speech became his motto after that.
Everyone worked according to their ability. The poultry would save five bushels of harvested corn by gathering the stray grains. Nobody stole or grumbled over his or her rations. The arguing and biting and jealousy that was normally seen in Jones's time was almost a thing in the past. And nobody shirked their work...well, almost nobody. Mollie wasn't a morning riser and would often leave work early with the excuse of having a stone in her hoof. It was also noted that where there was work to be done, the tabby cat was never around. She wouldn't be seen for hours but then reappear at either dinner or in the evening after a hard day of work. Her excuses were always clever, and she purred so affectionately that no one could truly stay mad at her.
Old Benjamin didn't change much since the Rebellion. He did his work in the same slow fixed way as he had done in Jones's time, never shirking work but never doing extra work either. About the Rebellion, when asked whether he was happy or not now that Jones was gone, he wouldn't say if it was good or bad. Instead, he would only say "Donkeys live a long time. None of you has ever seen a dead donkey," and the others had to be satisfied with this strange answer.
But it was when they returned from the harvest that they noticed that the milk had disappeared. "Where is the milk?" demanded one of the cows. "It can't be finished that quickly!"
"Yeah, where is it?" barked Sam. He had been told about the milk by Clover and Benjamin.
"You needn't worry, comrades," said Squealer with his sly voice. "The milk has been stored away in the storehouse for future use. For now, eat your reward for your great labor. Comrades Snowball and Napoleon and I have figured out a rations arrangement for each of you."
The animals knew that they were already hungry. Filling their stomachs was more important than finding out where the milk went to. Squealer directed them to their food troughs, where the food had already been laid out, and they would eat. It was food that they had worked to make themselves, and it was all delicious.
"Everyone!" A pigeon was swooping over the crowd as they were finished eating. "Come quick! Jessie and Bluebell have given birth!"
Clover lifted her muzzle out from the grain. "How long ago?" she asked the pigeon.
"Just during the harvest! Nine puppies in all!"
Snowball licked his lips and started heading to the barn. "Well, we can all take a break from our meal for this moment," he declared. "Come, comrades! Let's meet the farm's newest animals!"
Whatever food they had leftover, they would get back to in a jiffy. Everyone headed towards the barn to join Snowball in seeing the newest arrivals on Animal Farm.
As soon as they reached the barn, they found Jessie and Bluebell laying in the stall next door to Boxer's, looking tired but happy. Nine tiny puppies were at their bellies, nursing and whimpering; Jessie had five in her litter with three boys and two girls, while Bluebell had four with two boys and two girls. Sam wagged his tail but kept his distance. He knew from the words of other animals that female dogs would want only their mate to approach them...when they were in a good mood.
As the animals watched the puppies, Pinscher padded over to the new mothers, sniffing the puppies and smiling when one of them sneezed. The Rottweiler was said to be the father of the puppies, and indeed, some had black-and-tan fur like he. Others had a sandy-brown color, hinting that Sam might be a father as well. But Sam had not been around Jessie and Bluebell when they had gotten pregnant. To anyone (including Sam), some puppies just inherited Bluebell's fur color as well as Jessie's.
"They're so small," remarked a gosling, waddling forward to see the litters.
"Of course they're small," said Jessie with a tired smile, though she had to wave him away so that he didn't step on a puppy by accident. "Puppies don't come out as finished as other animals."
Bluebell bent down to lick one of her puppies. "Be patient. They'll start seeing and hearing before you know it."
"They are still as important as any adult animal," said Snowball with pride. "No farm would ever neglect its children. One day, they will be useful for the farm. Now you two girls rest up and care for those puppies. We are so proud of you."
That was when Sam saw Napoleon arrive as Snowball left the dogs' side. The Berkshire pig was watching the puppies with a gleam in his eyes that he didn't like. As it turned out, even Pinscher was giving him the stinkeye.
"Why are you so interested in those puppies?" the Rottweiler whispered to Napoleon.
"This need not concern you," answered Napoleon.
Pinscher had an irritated growl on his broad muzzle. "Yes, this should concern me. I'm their father. What are you planning on doing?"
At this, Napoleon dropped his voice into a whisper. "I have something special planned out for them, Pinscher. For now, keep an eye out until they're near weaning. I even have something planned out for you, if you're interested."
This did not convince Pinscher much; in fact, this left him even more confused. But he did agree to keep an eye on his puppies until they were at least weaned.
...
Animal Farm was pretty busy for the next two weeks. The pigs had moved into the harness room as their safehouse. They would study blacksmithing, carpentering, and other skills from books that they brought out of the farmhouse. Snowball decided to organize the other animals into what he called Animal Committees. Such committees included the Egg Production Committee for the hens so they could lay more good eggs, the Clean Tails League for the cows so that their tails could swat flies better, the Whiter Wool Movement for the sheep to keep their wool clean, and many others including reading and writing.
Many of these were a failure, especially the Wild Comrades' Re-education Committee, which was to tame wild animals like rabbits and foxes. That was scrapped pretty soon because these wild animals would behave as much as they usually did in the wild, and they would take advantage of Animal Farm's generosity. The foxes, for example, had temporarily stayed on Animal Farm until they tried to hunt some chickens; when they killed two, the animals banished them from the farm forever as well as all other foxes. Even the cat joined the Re-education Committee and participated in it every few days before it was scrapped. One day, she was seen sitting on the roof of the cowshed and talking to some sparrows who were just out of her reach.
"All animals are comrades now," she purred in a soft and silky voice like honey. "Any of you boys want to perch on my paw? I won't bite."
But the sparrows kept their distance, just to be safer than sorry.
Teaching the animals to read and write, however, was more successful. The pigs could already read and write perfectly, as Snowball said earlier. The dogs could read fairly well, but most weren't interested in reading anything but the Seven Commandments. Muriel the goat could read somewhat better than the dogs and often read to the others in the evening from newspapers. Benjamin could read as well as any pig, perhaps even better, but he never did it aloud; to him, there was nothing worth reading. Clover learned the whole alphabet, but she couldn't put the letters together to form words. Poor Boxer couldn't get beyond D; he would trace A, B, C, and D in the dirt and observe them for a long while. He did get to E, F, G, and H, but he had forgotten the first four letters, so he decided to stick with A, B, C, and D. Mollie loved spelling out the letters of her name; she would form these out of pieces of twig and then decorate them with a flower or two before walking around them, admiring her work.
Sadly, none of the other animals could get beyond the letter A; at least Boxer had gone beyond that before stopping at D. The stupider animals - sheep, hens, and ducks - were unable to learn all of the Seven Commandments by heart. So Snowball decided that all seven of these Commandments could be reduced to a single maxim: "Four legs good, two legs bad." When explaining this, he had said, "This single maxim contains the quintessential system of Animalism. Whoever learns it by heart will be forever safe from the influences of humanity." This phrase became a favorite for the sheep, and they had started chanting "Four legs good, two legs bad!" whenever they grazed in their meadow.
Then one day, Snowball had gathered everyone by the barn to reveal not only these plans. He was also ready to reveal that Animal Farm was to have a flag of its own. Human countries like England and the United States of America had flags, he reasoned, so why should animals not have one of their own and be proud of it?
When everyone had gathered, Snowball raised his trotter for silence. "Now that we have had our first successful harvest without man, it is time for the hoisting of our new flag. Boxer and Clover," he addressed the two cart-horses, and they trudged forward. "If you may..."
Boxer and Clover took some rope in their mouths, pulling with all their might. Slowly but surely, a green flag was hoisted up into the air, with a white hoof and a white horn on it. It billowed around like a large leaf in the late summer wind.
"Comrades, this is the official flag of Animalism," announced Snowball. "The flag is green to symbolize the green fields of England, abundant for all animals. The hoof and horn symbolize the future free Republic of the animals, which will arise when the human race is finally overthrown for good."
The animals nodded in agreement. That was to be the flag from now on. Then Napoleon strode forward to give out the orders of the week. The corn would be planted on Monday, and the haystacks were to be brought up to the barn loft. When Napoleon was done, he let Snowball take over again.
"Comrades, we've called you here not only for the raising of the flag but also to open debates," said Snowball. "During these meetings, we will plan out the coming week's work, put forth resolutions that any animal is welcome to make, and debate upon them. That way, we can spread the knowledge of Animal Farm around for other farms to share and join us. For knowledge is power."
"What knowledge I want to know is where the milk is," Sam suddenly spoke up, which completely caught Snowball off guard.
This got the other animals' attention. It was then that they remembered that someone had taken the milk away. None of them had gotten to taste just a drop. And with that, the animals started chiming in their thoughts.
"Yeah, the kid's right," grumbled the bull. "We see you pigs milking the cows, but the milk's always gone by then!"
"And the apples! Aren't they ripe by now?"
"Share and share alike! Isn't that the spirit of Animalism?"
"Where's our share, you pigs?"
"Where are the milk and apples? Where are the milk and apples?"
The chanting had started rocking the barn, almost as loudly as when they had sung Beasts of England on the night of Old Major's meeting. Finally, Snowball raised his voice and yelled four words that shook them:
"WE PIGS HAVE THEM!"
The animals fell silent as Snowball looked down to his trotters, looking very guilty. "Comrades, it's true," he confessed. "We pigs have been keeping the milk and apples for ourselves since day one. We have wanted to share them, but..."
"BUT...unfortunately, we cannot afford it," Squealer said slyly. Behind him, Pinscher was dragging what looked like the glowing box with humans behind on a cart. "First, though, a little word from your sponsor."
He flicked an ear, and Pinscher turned the TV off by pressing the power button with his nose. Some of the animals complained about the TV being turned off, especially the sheep. But a short yet sharp squeal from Napoleon brought them to silence.
"Don't imagine that we pigs are doing this out of selfishness and privilege," Squealer began. "Many of us pigs don't like milk and apples, but our main objective in taking them for ourselves is for our health. Science has proven without a doubt, comrades, that milk and apples contain ingredients that are vital for a pig's health. We pigs are the brains of this farm, and the management and organization of this farm depend on us. We are watching over the welfare and safety of all animals day and night, so we must drink that milk and eat those apples. You want to know what happens if we fail?" he went on, skipping and whisking his tail. "Jones would come back and destroy us all! Surely, comrades, none of you wants to see Jones come back?"
If there was one thing the animals agreed on, they did not want Jones to come back. It was agreed among most of them that to prevent Jones from coming back, they would let the pigs have those treats.
Squealer seemed satisfied with their answer. "Very well," he said with a chuckle. "For your safety and our health, we will continue to drink the milk and eat the apples. And for your cooperation, you can watch this box with humans in it for your relaxation. That is Animalism in practice."
The animals agreed to that. So Pinscher turned the TV back on, and most of the animals glued their eyes to the screen.
In the meantime, Boxer had left the barnyard during Squealer's explanation and headed into the barn, where he rested in his stall. He stood in his stall by himself, closing his eyes and trying to think of what he thought about giving the milk and apples to the pigs.
"That doesn't sound fair to me," he admitted aloud to himself. "I like milk and apples. We all do."
But in the end, he had already made up his mind and decided to agree with the pigs' proposition. He opened his eyes and looked over to the stall where Jessie and Bluebell were with their puppies. Bluebell had just woken up from a nap and was now nursing her litter. After Boxer greeted them, he let both mothers know what had happened during the meeting.
"It sounds like the pigs are always trying to tell us what to do and what to think," remarked Bluebell.
"You may be right," said Boxer. "But we must have leaders."
"But what if the pigs are wrong?" added Jessie, pausing to groom one of her puppies as he nursed. "What if they make the wrong decisions, and we end up worse off than we were under Jones?"
The huge horse shrugged. "The pigs have never been wrong before," was all he said before ambling away.
When Boxer was gone, the two mothers shared worried glances. They couldn't help but feel sympathetic for Boxer. The Clydesdale horse was devoted to the pigs, but it was more out of a will to do what was right. But how far would that devotion go?
To be continued...
