he added, as he inspected the contents of his cousin's hat;
"twelve nice fresh eggs, a bird, and plenty of fruit."

"But how shall we cook the bird and the eggs? We have no means of
getting a fire made," said Catharine.

"As to the eggs," said Louis, "we can eat them raw; it is not for hungry
wanderers like us to be over nice about our food."

"They would satisfy us much better were they boiled, or roasted in the
ashes," observed Hector.

"True. Well, a fire, I think, can be got with a little trouble."

"But how?" asked Hector. "Oh, there are many ways, but the readiest
would be a flint with the help of my knife."

"A flint?"

"Yes, if we could get one--but I see nothing but granite, which crumbles
and shivers when struck--we could not get a spark. However, I think it's
very likely that one of the round pebbles I see on the beach yonder may
be found hard enough for the purpose."

To the shore they bent their steps as soon as the little basket had
been well filled with strawberries, and descending the precipitous bank,
fringed with young saplings, birch, ash, and poplars, they quickly found
themselves beside the bright waters of the lake. A flint was soon found
among the water-worn stones that lay thickly strewn upon the shore, and
a handful of dry sedge, almost as inflammable as tinder, was collected
without trouble; though Louis, with the recklessness of his nature, had
coolly proposed to tear a strip from his cousin's apron as a substitute
for tinder,--a proposal that somewhat raised the indignation of the tidy
Catharine, whose ideas of economy and neatness were greatly outraged,
especially as she had no sewing implements to assist in mending the
rent. Louis thought nothing of that; it was a part of his character to
think only of the present, little of the past, and to let the future
provide for itself. Such was Louis's great failing, which had proved a
fruitful source of trouble both to himself and others. In this respect
he bore a striking contrast to his more cautious companion, who
possessed much of the gravity of his father. Hector was as heedful and
steady in his decisions as Louis was rash and impetuous.

After many futile attempts, and some skin knocked off their knuckles
through awkward handling of the knife and flint, a good fire was at last
kindled, as there was no lack of dry wood on the shore; Catharine then
triumphantly produced her tin pot, and the eggs were boiled, greatly
to the satisfaction