202 WITH THE FLOWERS AND TREES 



rather smaller. One September day, a year or so 

 ago, I happened to be near the Mission San Gabriel, 

 and noticed an old Mexican man and a little boy 

 making for one of those ancient cactus clumps as if 

 on business bent, and disappear within it. My curi- 

 osity was aroused to know what they were after, so 

 I followed. The individual cactus plants were from 

 ten to Hfteen feet high, with tree-like trunks, and 

 the whole plantation (which was thirty or forty feet 

 through) was threaded with well trodden paths. On 

 the far side, I came upon my two Mexicans, gather- 

 ing tunas which were then just ripe. The old man 

 had a pole through the end of which at right angles 

 a nail had been driven. Lifting his stick to the 

 abundant " pears," he speared them one by one and 

 brought them to the ground where the boy brushed 

 the bristles from them and put them in a basket. 



The muchacho looked up, and responded pleas- 

 antly to my salutation. 



"You want to eat?" he said. "Bueno. You got 

 knife?" 



With that, he quickly brushed a tuna clean of 

 bristles by rolling it over and over on the sandy 

 ground with a bunch of grass; then with my knife 

 he deftly sliced a thin section transversely from each 

 end, and a vertical strip off the rind from end to end. 

 Pressing back the rind from this cut, he released the 



