Now and
then they cast glances toward Mink who was grinding away steadily, and I
could scarcely retain a shout of joy as I realized what wonderful
pictures he was taking. Indeed luck seemed to be with me, so far, for
never once did these beautiful prehistoric creatures retire out of
photographic range.
But otherwise the problem was becoming serious. I could not catch one of
them; they eluded me with maddening swiftness and grace; my pauses to
recover my breath became more frequent.
At last, dead beat, I sat down on a slab of coquina. And when I was able
to articulate I turned around toward Mink.
"You'll have to drop your camera and come over and help me," I panted.
"I'm all in!"
"Not quite," he said.
For a moment I did not understand him; then under my outraged eyes, and
within the hearing of my horrified ears a terrible thing occurred.
"Now, ladies!" yelled Mink, "all on for the fine-ally! Up-stage there,
you red-headed little spot-crabber! Mabel! Take the call! Now smile the
whole bloomin' bunch of you!"
What was he saying? I did not comprehend. I stared dully at the six
cave-girls as they grouped themselves in a semi-circle behind me.
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