Browsing Tlingit translation

13.

More and more dirt added to the pile under his palm each month. During the years that passed, the only sound he heard were the scraping of his hand on the dirt and his breathing. After a pile big enough to pick up formed under his hand, he grabbed it, spat on it and squeezed it and squeezed it and squeezed it until his hand turned white and his knuckles made popping noises. Hoborg sat up and looked at what lay in his palm as he opened his fist. He saw that he had formed a clod of dirt.