Th' sap makes a dye what won't
wash out, an' th' beans make a bread what won't sour or get hard. Then
it makes a barrier that shore is a dandy-coyotes an' men can't get
through it, an' it protects a whole lot of birds an' things. Th'
snakes hate it like poison, for th' thorns get under their scales an'
whoops things up for `em. It keeps th' sand from shiftin', too. Down
South where there is plenty of water, it often grows forty feet high,
but up here it squats close to th' ground so it can save th' moisture.
In th' night th' temperature sometimes falls thirty degrees, an' that
helps it, too."
"How can it live without water?" She asked.
"It gets all th' water it wants," he replied, smiling. "Th' tap
roots go straight down `til they find it, sometimes fifty feet. That's
why it don't shrivel up in th' sun. Then there are a lot of little
roots right under it an' they protects th' tap roots. Th' shade it
gives is th' coolest out here, for th' leaves turn with th' wind an'
lets th' breeze through-they're hung on little stems."
"How splendid!" she exclaimed. "Oh! Look there!" she cried, pointing
ahead of them. A chaparral cock strutted from its decapitated enemy, a
rattlesnake, and disappeared in the chaparral.
Hopalong laughed: "Mr. Scissors-bill Road-runner has great fun with
snakes. He runs along th' sand-an' he can run, too- an' sees a snake
takin' a siesta.
Pages:
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250