"
So together they went to the deer-brush and gathered a bunch of
flowers that Linda bound together with some wiry desert grass and
fastened to her belt. It was not long before Donald spied an
amole, and having found one, discovered many others growing near.
Then Linda led the way past thorns and brush, past impenetrable
beds of cholla, until they reached a huge barrel cactus that she
had located with the glasses. Beside this bristling monstrous
growth Linda paused, and reached for the axe, which Donald handed
to her. She drew it lightly across the armor protecting the
plant.
"Short of Victrola needles?" she inquired. "Because if you are,
these make excellent ones. A lot more singing quality to them
than the steel needles, not nearly so metallic."
"Well, I am surely going to try that," said Donald. "Never heard
of such a thing."
Linda chopped off a section of plant. Then she picked one of the
knives from the bucket and handed it to him.
"All right, you get what you want," she said, "while I operate on
the barrel."
She set her feet firmly in the sand, swung the axe, and with a
couple of deft strokes sliced off the top of the huge plant, and
from the heart of it lifted up half a bucketful of the juicy
interior, with her dipper.
"If we didn't have drink, here is where we would get it, and
mighty good it is," she said, pushing down with the dipper until
she formed a small pool in the heart of the plant which rapidly
filled.
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