If we can stop the main body settling on our farm, that’s everything. If they get a chance to lay their eggs, we are going to have everything eaten flat with hoppers later on.” He picked a stray locust off his shirt and split it down with his thumbnail; it was clotted inside with eggs. “Imagine that multiplied by millions. You ever seen a hopper swarm on the march? No? Well, you’re lucky.”

Margaret thought an adult swarm was bad enough. Outside, the light on the earth was now a pale, thin yellow darkened with moving shadow; the clouds of moving insects alternately thickened and lightened, like driving rain. Old Stephen said, “They’ve got the wind behind them. That’s something.”

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