"Well, seals."
"Seals!" exclaimed Wade; "the oily, nasty trash!"
"Hunger may bring you to sing a different tune," Kit muttered. "I'm not sure that a seal's flipper might not be acceptable by to-morrow morning."
"There are plenty of kittiwakes and lumne and eiderducks about these islets," I suggested. "We can shoot some of them."
"And we can fish!" Weymouth exclaimed.
"Where's your hooks?" said Kit.
That question floored the fishing project.
"Well, we've got our muskets," replied Weymouth.
"How many cartridges in all?" Raed asked.
"Let's take account of them. They are like to be precious property."