When these were
arranged exactly to her satisfaction, she pulled some sprays of
deer weed bloom from her bundle and, going down to the creek,
made a lather and carefully washed her hands, tucking the towel
she used in drying them through her belt. Then she came back to
the fire and, sitting down beside it, opened the package and
began her operations. On the long, slender sticks she strung a
piece of tenderloin beef, about three inches in circumference and
one fourth of an inch in thickness, then half a slice of bacon,
and then a slice of onion. This she repeated until her skewer
would bear no more weight. Then she laid it across the rocks
walling her fire, occasionally turning it while she filled the
second skewer. Then she brought from the car the bucket of pulp
she had taken from the barrel cactus, transferred it to a piece
of cheesecloth and deftly extracted the juice. To this she added
the contents of a thermos bottle containing a pint of sugar that
had been brought to the boiling point with a pint of water and
poured over some chopped spearmint to which had been added the
juice of half a dozen lemons and three or four oranges. From a
small, metal-lined compartment, Linda took a chunk of ice and
dropped it into this mixture.
She was sitting on the ground, one foot doubled under her, the
other extended. She had taken off her hat; the wind and the
bushes had roughened her hair. Exercise had brought deep red to
her cheeks and her lips.
Pages:
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201