from where he stood , it was a crushing collection of sights and sounds : all those little mounds of dirt , the dead waiting to be lowered into their final resting places , the grieving of those who had lost everything , the mountain people standing behind the townies looking solemnly on , and the column of smoke at the north end of town coughing spirals of sweet-smelling black into the sky as six hundred abby corpses smoldered into nothing .