Among them he saw mothers with their little ones in their arms, and old men who could only walk with a cane in one hand and the other arm in that of some member of the family, and a few old women, withered and motionless as mummies, who were sleeping as they were trundled along in wheelbarrows.

When the sun awoke this miserable band they gathered themselves together with heavy step, still stiffened by the night.

Many were going toward the station in the hope of a train which never came, thinking that, perhaps, they might have better luck during the day that was just dawning.

Some were continuing their way down the track, hoping that fate might be more propitious in some other place.
Don Marcelo walked all the morning long.

The white, rectilinear ribbon of roadway was spotted with approaching groups that on the horizon line looked like a file of ants.