“Quit fooling,” grumbled a voice; then, as if the sand had suddenly revived memory and galvanized her to life, she scrambled to her feet.
“Them eggs—and the sun’s getting down and we fooling about!” She picked up her hat. “I’ll take this end and you go t’other.”
“But I haven’t anything to gather them in.”
“Gather them in your hat, and keep a lookout for quicksan’s. If you get into one, holler and throw yourself on your back. But you’ll easy tell them—they look different from the or’nary sands.”
“How?”
“I dunno; just different. If you see the sand in front of you looking different, keep clear of it.”
Off she went.