e," said Bob. "You'll
soon get used to that. Mind, that one's tail's burning!"

Dexter did mind, but the fish stuck so close to the stone that its tail
was burned off before it could be moved, a mishap which drew from Bob
the remark--

"Well, you are a chap!"

Before the fish were done, more and more wood had to be collected; and
as a great deal of this was green, a great smoke arose, and, whenever a
puff of wind came, this was far from agreeable.

"How small they are getting!" said Dexter, as he watched the browning
fish.

_Bang_!

A great piece of the stone splintered off with a report like that of a
gun, but, fortunately, neither of the boys was hurt.

"We shall have to buy a frying-pan and a kittle," said Bob, as soon as
examination proved that the fish were safe, but stuck all over splinters
of stone, which promised ill for the repast. "Can't do everything at
once."

"I'm getting very hungry again," said Dexter; "and, I say, we haven't
got any bread."

"Well, what o' that?"

"And no salt."

"Oh, you'll get salt enough as soon as we go down to the sea. You may
think yourself jolly lucky as you've got fish, and some one as knows how
to kitch 'em. They're done now. I'll let you have that one. 'Tain't
so burnt as this is. There, kitch hold!"

A fish hissing hot and burnt on one side is not a pleasant thing to take
in a bare hand, so Dexter received his upon his pocket-handkerchief, as
it was pushed toward him with a piece of stick; and then, following his
companion's example, he began to pick off pieces with the blade of his
pocket-knife, and to burn his mouth.

"'Lishus, ain't it?" said Bob, making a very unpleasant noise suggestive
of pigs.

Dexter made no reply, his eyes were watering, and he was in difficulties
with a bone.

"I said 'lishus, ain't it!" said Bob again, after more pig noise.

"Mine isn't very nice," said Dexter.

"Not nice? Well, you are a chap to grumble! I give you the best one,
because this here one had its tail burnt off, and now you ain't
satisfied."

"But it tastes bitter, and as if it wants some bread and salt."

"Well, we ain't got any, have we? Can't yer wait?"

"Yes," said Dexter; "but it's so full of bones."

"So are you full of bones. Go on, mate. Why, I'm half done."

Dexter did go on, wondering in his own mind whether his companion's fish
was as unpleasant and coarse eating as the one he discussed, giving him
credit the while for his disintere