THE CAMP-FOLLOWERS
hard-working father. The flesh of the fish, of course, served us for meat, either fresh or pickled in brine, and then dried in the sun. The roes, prepared in the same way, were our only delicacies, and, by an indulgence in these, we used to celebrate our many birthdays. Fish dripping we had in plenty, and the bones were dried and ground between two rocks, making the finest flour for bread and pies. The tails and fins were always saved, and, after a simple drying process, made excellent fuel, easily set alight with sparks kindled by knocking two stones sharply together. A fine black ash was left from fires kindled in this way, which, mixed with a little sea-water, made one of the purest inks. The good dad always encouraged us to make notes on the smooth white skins of the young dab, bleached and dried in the sun, explaining how useful they would be to us in after-life, and showed us how to cut pens from the larger bones of the fish. The only parts which the unselfish man reserved for himself were the eyes which, when dried, were his only substitute for tobacco in that lone part of the world, and which he smoked in a pipe most beautifully carved by himself, from the spine of an old cod.
'The heads of the fish served the younger children for bricks, or even, after a little trimming, for dolls, with which they amused themselves during the long winter evenings. Many another device had we whereby we made the most of our very small opportunities, but you will readily see how dependent we were for every-
