I read ahead a little bit again last night, this time to about page 19. It's actually getting easier to understand all the time.
Page 9, Paragraph 6:
All alone I sit by my mother's foot. My people aren't around - they've gone far away, beneath the trees and across the hill; they're gone, and they're not coming back here anymore. The grey dirt on my hands and feet is dry and hard; because of this, I can scratch it off in little bits. The dirt that I pushed around my mother's foot is likewise hard now, and bits of it are coming off. I see her toes, and now in the dirt that falls from them I see an imprint of her toes. Mother.
Paragraph 7 (ends on the top of page 10):
Now I have another thought, in which night comes and I sit by Mother's foot with nowhere to go. I've been with my mother the whole time and I don't want to go away from her now, and yet the hurt in my belly is telling me differently. [?] I sit there a while and don't know if I should stay or go.
Page 10, Paragraph 1 (first full paragraph):
I stand up, then walk away and come back, then sit, then stand up and walk some more. I jump on the ground, and hit a tree and tear up grass, and say many things to Mother's foot. I sit and don't move, and off in the dark is the noise of a fox in the grass and of the sheperd dogs* across the hills. I'm afraid and even hungier than I was before. I take a shit by a tree, between the roots - it's watery.
*which for some reason I picture as English Shepherds