when they came south out of grant county boyd was not much more than a baby and the newly formed county they’d named hidalgo was itself little older than the child. in the country they’d quit lay the bones of a sister and the bones of his maternal grandmother. the new country was rich and wild. you could ride clear to mexico and not strike a crossfence. he carried boyd before him in the bow of the saddle and named to him features of the landscape and birds and animals in both spanish and english. in the new house they slept in the room off the kitchen and he would lie awake at night and listen to his brother’s breathing in the dark and he would whisper half aloud to him as he slept his plans for them and the life they would have.
–cormac mccarthy, the crossing