So did the pounding of the "hard pan" on the alkali tract, itself.

The tough, hard clods of earth were so difficult to pulverize that they had to be pounded with crowbars and axes.
"I used to think that helping pick lemons, at home, was work," Claude thought to-day, as he went toward the part of the ranch where he was expected to work, "but I didn't know about alkali patches, then.

And--I had mother." The tears would come into his eyes.
The hired men were scattered over the extensive alkali tract, and were pounding the clods.

Claude chose to work near a man called Neil.

The boy liked Neil better than the other men, because he did not speak crossly.
Claude sorrowfully pounded the alkali clods.