"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.
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