Hay Harvest

How they toiled and sweated to get the hay in! The effort was immense, but the reward was a harvest even bigger than anyone had hoped. The implements had been designed for human beings and not for animals, and no animal could use any tool that involved standing on his hind legs. Yet the pigs proved so clever that they could think of a way round every difficulty. The horses knew every inch of the field and understood the business of mowing and raking far better than Jones and his men had ever done. The pigs did not actually work, but directed and supervised the others, their superior knowledge making it natural that they should assume the leadership. Boxer and Clover harnessed themselves to the cutter or the horse-rake, with no bits or reins needed, and tramped steadily round and round the field while a pig walked behind calling out encouragement. Every animal down to the humblest worked at turning the hay and gathering it—even the ducks and hens toiled all day in the sun, carrying tiny wisps of hay in their beaks.

In the end they finished the harvest in two days' less time than it had usually taken Jones and his men. Not only that, but it was the biggest harvest the farm had ever seen. There was no wastage whatever; the hens and ducks, with their sharp eyes, gathered up the very last stalk. And not an animal on the farm had stolen so much as a mouthful. All through that summer the work of the farm went like clockwork. The animals were happy as they had never conceived it possible to be. Every mouthful of food was an acute positive pleasure, now that it was truly their own food, produced by themselves and for themselves, not doled out by a grudging master.

The success of the hay harvest confirmed the animals' newfound sense of agency and set the pattern for the farm's future: the pigs would lead, the horses would provide the muscle, and the smaller animals would contribute in their own ways. It was the first concrete proof that the Rebellion could deliver a better life, and it established Boxer as the admiration of everybody—a horse who seemed more like three horses than one, whose personal motto "I will work harder" became the rallying cry of the entire farm.